


Women Of Steel

by ByTheDawn



Series: Beyond Neverland [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 51,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week has passed since the events of 'The Demons From Our Past'; Regina and Emma are getting used to the new situation which brings to light even more dark secrets and pain. Together, the women of steel try to weather the storm that--at least in theory--should drive them apart.</p><p>(Please mind the updated tags that came with chapters six and ten!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life, Resumed

“Focus, Emma!” Regina spoke chidingly as she circled the blonde who stood tall in her backyard, arms out in front of her like a supplicant, palms to the sky, and eyes shut tightly. Her face was skewed in concentration and Regina realized they were going about this the wrong way. All her encouragements were making Emma do was resist harder against the very point of the exercise, namely to channel her innate magical abilities into a fireball. It was a big leap from their previous exercises, but Regina felt the blonde sheriff was at least physically and magically strong enough for it. It was the mental part she worried about.

“I _am_ focused, Regina, this is just not working!” Emma seethed, and dropped her hands. Green eyes opened and flew to her, causing Regina to still her movements, swallow her annoyance at the situation and open her arms to Emma, who stepped into her embrace easily. As Regina breathed the scent of the frustrated blonde, she smiled. She could never stay annoyed at this woman long.

Frustration radiated off of Emma in waves, but Regina figured that she could give it one more push before she had to abandon the pursuit and hope for better tidings the next time Emma had time off that wasn’t automatically taken up by the Charmings. The priority now was to calm Emma, and make her feel that magic was something she could, indeed, do.

“I suck.” Emma stated miserably into Regina’s neck, causing the brown haired woman to throw her head back and laugh before prying Emma’s head off of her shoulder. 

“You do not ‘suck’, and do not give me that pout.” Regina chided merrily. “You can do this. We’ve done it together and you are learning to master the basics of energy transference—“ Emma rolled her eyes and Regina dipped her head for a light kiss onto the woman’s lips. When she pulled back, she brought a serious look to her features and waited until Emma shook herself out of her misery enough to look at her with interest.

“Emma, if you allow yourself to channel your magic, you can do this. I think… I think you are afraid of your own power. It’s holding you back. When I was a lot younger and I first learned magic, I was afraid the magic would grow to control me instead of the other way around… is that what you are feeling?” She questioned lightly, without judgment and in the spirit of honesty and open communication that they had forged between them—knowing full well it was the only way their relationship had any chance of success.

They had spent the last seven months making each other’s lives miserable out of fear, letting their own interpretations of the words of the other guide their interactions. Now, a week after what Emma had grinningly come to refer to as ‘Zero Hour’, they made a conscious effort to listen to the words of the other, assume the best, and ask for clarification when needed. They were doing well, although they were forced to navigated their own triggers, still getting to know those of the other woman and sometimes blundering headlong into painful territory. 

Magic was one of those territories. Regina had spent most of her life able to do magic, and many of the years she had not had access to it, she had not needed it so it had not been missed. Her magic had caused her a lot of pain, but it had also saved her life time and time again. And yes, it always came with a price, but some prices were worth paying, especially when it came to the blonde in her arms. Emma, on the other hand, had almost solely been on the receiving end of magic, and it had rarely been a good thing. She was distrustful of the entire institution, and unsure of her own abilities with it. So far, all the magic feats she had performed had been either in the heat of the moment or with Regina, and Regina suspected that Emma did not see herself as the fireball throwing type; she was more the ‘punch you in the face’-type.

“I’m mostly afraid of setting the garden on fire.” Emma admitted, drawing Regina back to the present. “I can barely be allowed around a stove, Regina… do you really think a fireball is a good thing to let me have?” She asked and Regina had to admit the other woman had a fair point. Still, she had seen how competent Emma could be and suspected that Emma was simply making excuses—consciously or subconsciously—to get out of studying something she might fail at. 

For a woman who was gifted with the title ‘Savior’, it surprised Regina how scared Emma was of failure. Some things, like practicing magic, she would rather not even try than try and fail at. It made teaching Emma the basics a frustrating experience and this slightly more daunting material a virtual nightmare, but Regina reminded herself of the safety it would provide Emma to have a weapon on hand at all times—especially seeing how terrible the woman was with a sword.

“You won’t set the garden on fire.” Regina reassured. “Now, turn around. Let me feel what you are doing.” She ordered lightly, and Emma turned around with a frustrated growl. She resumed her previous position and lifted her arms until they were level with her shoulders again. Regina stepped into Emma’s space and draped herself lightly around the other woman’s back. She shadowed her, bringing her arms up as well, and extended her magic so she could sense the energy flow that was uniquely Emma’s; an energy flow that right now refused to move a muscle. Emma, on the other hand, molded into her, purring happily. 

“Are you already trying, my dear, or are you waiting for an invitation?” Regina sassed and Emma huffed. Obviously rebuffed, she leaned forward again and closed her eyes, rolling her head to pop her neck.

“Fine, but if I hit your apple tree, I don’t get punished.” Emma replied and Regina could feel the energy coming to life inside the other woman. It curled inside Emma like an irritated cobra and shot every whichaway, completely without focus. Regina resisted the urge to help Emma guide it with her own magic.

“Left is passive, right is active…” Regina reminded Emma, who sighed and tried to wrangle the deceitful snake inside of her to her right palm. “Find your center…” she added after a few moments. Emma came close before losing grip, cursing in frustration and stepping out of Regina’s embrace. 

“I can’t do this, Regina! I know you think I can, but I can’t! I’m not a witch; I’m far more valuable as your battery pack. Can’t we just drop this, please? Pretty please? I’ll make it up to you?” Emma stepped into her space again and tried to kiss her, but Regina pulled her head away and inserted a hand between them, literally pushing Emma back by her face. Emma huffed but stopped trying to ply Regina with promises of sex. Instead, she stood in the grass, hands stuffed in her pockets, deflated by the situation at hand. Regina felt sorry for her and sighed.

“I’m pushing you, I’m sorry.” Regina apologized. “I just want you to be safe—have a weapon at the ready whenever you need it. I don’t want to lose you.” She admitted truthfully as she stepped into the blonde’s orbit and pressed herself lightly against her. Emma released her breath in a puff and let Regina kiss her before allowing Regina to take her hands. Emma knew what was coming and while she seemed unhappy at still being pushed to do magic, she seemed far more confidant at this than the fireball exercise.

“Back to basics.” Regina continued and Emma nodded. She licked her lips, closed her eyes, and Regina could feel the magic move inside of Emma, moving relatively easily to her right hand and pressing against the magical barriers Regina kept up. She allowed Emma’s magic to course through her and laughed gruffly at the mixture of love and desire that shot through her at the contact. 

Emma had gotten a lot better at channeling her emotions and while it was always easier when Regina was already touching her, Emma had been making great strides. Yesterday, for example, she had managed to surprise Regina with a light touch to her arm which was filled with so much arousal that Regina had dropped the stack of dishes she had been holding and almost didn’t care about it as she swirled around to pin the younger woman against the nearest wall and ravish her on the spot, much to Emma’s delight.

Passing emotions between them wasn’t really practicing magic, though; it was more a matter or pushing magic around. Every time Regina used Emma as a ‘battery pack’ to end a crisis or resolve a situation, she was taking Emma’s magic from her to use as she saw fit. The only difference now was that Emma was in control of the exchange. Well, that and the openness between them that amplified the impact of their emotions. No minds were altered; no spell was performed whenever one of them opened themselves up to the other. They were simply pouring magic into each other, like water from one glass to another. Nothing was expended, nothing was altered, yet feeling what Emma felt for her was an experience unlike any Regina had ever had—and it was glorious. 

Regina took her own right hand out of Emma’s left and felt the flow of emotions waver. Emma’s face was doing that adorable thing it did when Emma focused on something with all her being, and she managed to keep the flow of magic open, although at a lesser intensity. It was good enough for Regina, who laced their fingers, kissed Emma deeply and shattered her concentration. Emma’s arms flew up to circle Regina’s neck and pull her closer in a celebratory kiss. It would not be enough to keep her safe, Regina knew, but it was another baby step in the right direction. At this point, she would take it.


	2. Twilight

Emma chewed the end of her pencil as she tried to focus on a rapport she had no interest in finishing. It had been a minor incident—a runaway groceries cart that had taken out a mailbox—but it had to be filed. Emma just wanted to be with Regina. She wondered what the other woman was doing and realized that, whatever it was, she was undoubtedly doing it alone. Henry was at school, Emma was stuck at work and that was pretty much where Regina's list of social contacts ended.

It had been a week since Zero Hour, and in that time Emma had discovered a lot of things about Regina and herself. Nothing was so shocking for her to realize, though, as the level of isolation Regina suffered through on a daily basis. 

Emma—who had never considered herself a social butterfly per se—had to admit that she had become a major social hub in the closed off Storybrooke community. It had happened without her really noticing, but the more she interacted with Regina, the more she realized how her own rise to popularity had been at the expense of the dark haired woman; many of her social victories had meant taking power away from Regina, who had become locked inside her mansion like an ivory tower—indestructible but unscalable as well.

Emma could not say she did not feel at least a little guilty in hindsight, but Regina had forgiven her for her past transgressions against her. Emma had silently vowed—and subtly hinted at to Regina—that she would do everything in her power to restore a sense of service to the community to Regina's life—and maybe help her make a few friends as well.

Regina had all but admitted that what she missed most about her old life was being relied upon. Regina didn't miss being a Queen or Mayor, she didn't miss the power she had wielded or the respect that came with her position. Above all, Regina missed the daily grind; dealing with an unforeseen snowstorm, making sure the budgets were in order for next year, organizing a fair for the town... Regina had liked being Mayor and was good at it. If life had worked out differently for Regina, Emma thought she would have made a really good Queen as well. 

Regina was a social person at heart, charitable and giving, but past events had left her scarred and fearful of the reactions of others—reactions which did tend to be overtly negative. Whatever Emma was planning, it could not—and should not—involve a large-scale social affair. The last thing Regina needed was another lynch mob.

Thinking her options through, Emma’s mind suddenly landed on an idea so brilliant, so perfect, and so completely crazy, it might just work out. Grinning ear to ear, Emma rounded off her report in under a minute flat, threw down the pencil, typed in the code which would forward incoming calls to her cell phone and headed out of the station. Part one of Operation Butterfly was underway.

Emma pulled up to Granny’s in her duty car, parking at the curb and sliding out. With long strides, she crossed the terrace and pushed her way into the quiet diner, heading straight for the counter and hopping onto a stool. Ruby looked up in surprise and grinned as she studied Emma, who was practically bouncing.

“You got laid.” Ruby greeted her and Emma rolled her eyes. 

“Yes, I did,” Emma readily admitted, “…but that is not why I am here. Tell me you did not make plans for tomorrow evening?” She pleaded and Ruby grinned a wolfish smile, obviously far more interested in Emma’s sex life than whatever the woman had planned for tomorrow. Ruby leaned forward over the counter and pursed her lips slightly. Even with the more subdued clothes from Red’s closet, the woman before her still had a very healthy interest in sex and gossip, and a combination of the two was too delicious to pass up.

“I could clear my schedule if you tell me who got to take you home…?” Ruby bargained and Emma smirked. While it was entirely possible Ruby actually had something planned for tomorrow, the third Friday of the month had been reserved for girl’s night since Emma had arrived and this month’s gathering had only been pushed to next week because Emma’s parents had an anniversary—the first time they had found each other again, or perhaps this was the one where David had awoken Snow from the Sleeping Curse; Emma had really not been all that interested when Mary Margaret had cancelled on her—and she suspected Ruby had kept the evening clear, regardless. 

“I can’t tell you yet, but I promise you, you will be one of the first people I tell when I can.” Emma said, and she could see Ruby’s interest growing. She could practically see the waitress run through the list of available people in this town and wondered if there were any women on there—and even more if Regina was. She wisely kept her mouth shut, though, and waited patiently for Ruby to snap out of it. Eventually, Ruby shrugged and held up her hand, pinky extended. Emma wrapped hers around it and the two shook on it.

“Deal,” Ruby agreed. “Now, what are we doing—or am I doing?” She questioned, and Emma smiled at the quiet confidence her friend showed her in trusting her implicitly. She doubted Ruby had even considered that what Emma had planned could be a bad thing.

“Movie night, with Henry” Emma said confidently. Ruby’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and Emma knew she had her. She had considered leading with Regina’s name, but it was a far more devilish plan to reel Ruby in with the boy she babysat and cared for and then spring Regina on her. Speaking of which…

“…and Regina” Emma followed and the change in Ruby’s face was incredibly comical to behold. From wide-grinning bliss, Ruby’s expression went to a mixture of shock and doubt that Emma had to snicker at.

“You… want me… to watch a movie with you, Henry, and Regina ‘ex-Mayor and Queen’ Mills?” The woman asked incredulously. “You’re joking!” She added, but her voice was more surprised than venomous. 

“I am not.” Emma said solemnly, glancing about her to see if they were drawing attention. They weren’t; the only two people in the diner were talking to each other over a plate of food. Good, she was not looking for this talk to become awkward.

“Look, of all the people in this town, you are probably the one who hates Regina least… I mean, you helped me protect her from the Wraith, and then from the mob… besides, you stood up to her in the town hall and… God, I don’t know. I thought you might be okay with it.” Emma said, now kind of realizing this was perhaps not the best plan she had ever had.

Ruby looked straight at her for a long moment, and the wolfish charm faded from her face, being replaced by a look of seriousness that Emma had only seen on Ruby’s face on very rare occasions. 

“First off, Emma, never, ever, presume to know who I do and do not hate. When Regina put me here as Ruby, she intentionally or unintentionally made me into the town’s… slut—for lack of a better term. Part of that was the wolf, I’m sure, but before the curse, I was a virgin.” There was a pain in Ruby’s eyes Emma had literally never seen in them before. She wanted to open her big mouth again, but Ruby laid her hand on her arm.

“I’ve come to grips with it by now; I like Ruby—I still use her name over ‘Red’, because I’m comfortable in her skin… but I have my own issues with Regina—all of us do. That said… I know what it is like to be treated like a monster, and to be hunted.” Ruby added, and the pain that came to Ruby’s eyes was of a whole other magnitude. 

“The wolf has always made me an outsider, and so I can identify with Regina. You told me what she did in Neverland—how she helped. Besides, it’s been ages since I saw the kid and I like movies. If you bring the popcorn, I’m in.” Ruby said, and a wide grin chased away most of the hurt on Ruby’s face—but now she’d seen it, Emma couldn’t unsee it completely. With a warm smile, she covered her friend’s hands with her own.

“Thank you.” She said, and meant it from the bottom of her heart. Ruby nodded. Pulling her hand back, she glanced around her to see if she was needed yet. Finding she wasn’t, she fixed Emma with another look.

“So, why am I being subjected to a movie night with Regina…?” She asked with renewed interest. Emma’s hand shot up to her neck, trying to find a way to answer that question without giving too much away.

“Henry.” She eventually blurted. “He’s with her, and I need to be out of the house. I figured we could have an alternate girl’s night—plus Henry.” She added quickly, knowing that this might be one of the lamest excuses in the history of excuses. Ruby also didn’t look very convinced, but smirked regardless.

“Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll be there. With beer. I will need beer for this.” She warned with a laugh in her voice and pushed off of the counter. Emma straightened as well, sliding off of her stool.

“I need to get back to work,” Ruby said as she reached for a cloth to wipe the counter with. She eyed Emma a moment and seemed to gather her thoughts. Emma waited to hear what Ruby had to say, most certainly owing her that. Ruby bit her lip and exhaled loudly. 

“I have to ask… have you spoken to Regina about this movie night thing yet…? And mentioned me specifically?” Ruby asked with a note of worry to her voice. Emma shook her head. 

“I thought so. Emma, Regina and I go way back—by proxy anyway. I helped Snow White while she was on the run from the Evil Queen. Snow was my best friend—still sort of is. Most of the people who ended up in my situation ended up dead. I don’t think she likes me very much because of what happened in the Enchanted Forest. I know she’s trying to change but I am counting on you to get me out of there in one piece if this goes sideways, so you better not spring me on her.” Ruby added neutrally, wiping her hands on her apron after putting the cloth away. Once more Emma was reminded of the fact that Ruby was far her senior in years and wisdom.

“Thanks, Rubs. I owe you one. I’ll make sure nothing happens.” Emma swore. “At the mansion at six thirty for pizza?” She added and Ruby nodded. 

“Double pepperoni, and make the movie a good one!” She called after Emma as the other woman walked out the door. Emma lifted her hand in acknowledgement. The two exchanged smiles and Emma realized her friend was one in a million. Not many people would be willing to do what Ruby offered to do for her and it filled Emma with pride to call the waitress her friend. Ruby’s speech had driven home, however, how hard rehabilitating Regina was going to be. Everyone had a story like Ruby’s and no one knew Regina the way she did—or at least was aware of the side of Regina Emma knew and loved. 

Emma had to admit that the woman who curled into her at night, completely unguarded, had a past that was really hard to swallow when confronted with as she had just been. With a feeling of dread tugging at her gut, Emma slid into the driver’s seat of her car and pulled out her cell phone. She’d best clear this with Regina before she chickened out.


	3. The Heart Is A Muscle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to Daughter's 'Still'.

In the past, Regina would have picked up her personal telephone with a sharp 'Mills!'. Now, she always checked the caller ID and adjusted accordingly. As her phone went off, Regina sat up on her hind legs, pulled off the working gloves she had been wearing, and produced the cell phone from her pocket. She smiled broadly at the image of Emma Swan that appeared and accepted the call.

"Emma!" She said happily into the receiver. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She added pleasantly, and hoped that Emma didn't call her with an emergency of some sort. She always worried for the blonde whenever Regina was not there to care for her.

"Hey Regina," Emma spoke on the other side of the line. Emma sounded happy to hear her voice, and not in pain. She did, however, sound a bit reserved. Regina huffed at herself for psychoanalyzing the sheriff and tried to get herself to stop. Emma would come out and say what was on her mind, and Regina could deal with anything the blonde threw at her; at least that is what Regina told herself. Yet, Regina's insecurities were never far away and they didn't need much to scream bloody murder.

"How is your day going?" Regina spoke tentatively, trying to keep her voice within the range of pleasant. Whenever Emma was not physically with her to reaffirm their love, Regina found herself doubt. Yes, much had been worked out during Zero Hour, but far more was still unresolved and everything was tentative at best. 

“Oh, you know, boring as hell.” Emma spoke on the other end of the line, and Regina loosened a little—both at the rapport of normalcy and Emma’s more chipper voice. Cross with herself for falling prey to doubt so fast, Regina shifted herself into a more comfortable position, making herself completely available to Emma.

“Then I assume you have a different—very valid—reason to take me away from my busy schedule, Miss Swan?” Regina covered her insecurities. Emma snorted on the other end of the line and Regina smiled.

“Can’t I just call you because I’m bored and I miss you?” Emma asked and Regina felt the darkness around her heart subside. 

“You can, and may, because I miss you too, but you do not seem like the type.” Regina mused with a grin to her voice and she heard the blonde sigh.

“Alright, I do have ulterior motives, but please don’t be mad.” Emma said. After the recent exchange, Regina didn’t really feel too worried. By Emma’s tone she could tell that neither them nor Henry were in danger and much of Regina’s anger at the past had been to cover her own fears. Anger was not her go-to emotion anymore when it came to the young sheriff.

“Try me.” Regina said, her voice somewhere between sarcasm and reassurance, a mix she managed to balance effortlessly. Emma paused a moment and then took a deep breath.

“Okay, what would you say to a movie night tomorrow? You, Henry, me… and Ruby?” Emma blurted, obviously going all or nothing on this. It took Regina a quiet moment to wrap her mind around what Emma was proposing. At the mention of wolf girl, Regina flashed back to her defiant eyes as she stood up to the Evil Queen in the town hall—a move Regina had respected Ruby for, although she would have gladly destroyed her for it as well. She would never want to admit it to anyone, but Red was someone she had hated for a long time—mostly because the woman had been like a phantom, impossible to capture—like her best friend Snow. They two had eluded her and her armies until it had been too late and the old Regina most certainly placed partial blame on Red for the way her life had turned out. Without Red, Snow would have been caught in the Enchanted Forest, or she would have died due to exposure or hunger. Yet, Red had turned out to be a formidable opponent and fiercely loyal friend to her stepdaughter; not only had she kept Snow alive and had given her shelter, she had personally made sure Snow and Charming had found each other. 

Regina had taken great pleasure in seeing Ruby in her skimpy waitressing outfit and even more minimal every-day outfits—not out of desire, but out of revenge. Seeing her throw herself at men—and a few women—without reservation had felt like the ultimate form of punishment of the kindhearted and proud wolf girl. Regina hadn’t been in full control of the curse when it hit; it had taken her desires and wishes and applied them to those who had been sucked into this world in broad strokes. Regina had wanted to degrade and break down Red, and so the curse created Ruby, who had enacted her own destruction. Once the curse was broken, Regina assumed her punishment had continued on in the remade Red—who still went by Ruby—who had to live with twenty-eight years of bad—hormonal—decisions. 

“Regina?” Emma’s voice shook her out of her reverie and Regina sighed. 

“Why?” She asked, her voice terse and tired but with an edge of genuine interest. In the silence of Emma’s pause for thought, Regina felt the weight of her actions—against Red, against everyone—settle on her shoulders once more. With the clarity of time and her recently found hope at the hands of the Savior, Regina was slowly allowing herself to discover the full extent of the damage she had singlehandedly created—egged on by her mother, and Rumple, and so many others in her life—but enacted by her alone.

“Because… I think it’s time you mended some bridges.” Emma spoke up, then mumbled something Regina didn’t catch. She quirked her eyebrow.

“What was that?” She asked, preferring to react to the whole of the explanation, not just half of it. Emma grumbled and sighed, and then cleared her throat.

“It’s part of Operation Butterfly.” She admitted and now both Regina’s eyebrows rose. She racked her brain to find any relevance in the statement and came up empty. If Emma had discussed this operation with her before, Regina had not been paying attention—and when it came to the blonde, that rarely happened.

“What is ‘Operation Butterfly’?” she questioned, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear to make sure she would be able to hear Emma this time. It took a little while for Emma to respond, and when she did, she sounded like she was blushing.

“It’s… errr… a codename. For… an operation.” Emma started, and at a quick ‘Miss Swan…’ from Regina, the blonde continued. “Alright, alright… the full name is ‘Operation Monarch Butterfly’.” Emma continued, and Regina had a moment to reacquaint herself with whatever she knew about the best known of the Nymphalidae family before Emma continued. It wasn’t much, and explained even less.

“It’s my operation to… get you back in the good graces of the citizens of Storybrooke.” Emma spoke somewhat dejectedly. “Get it? Monarch… social butterfly… I thought it was kind of clever.” Emma defended and Regina couldn’t help but grin at the way their son inspired the both of them to name everything an operation, at the way Emma’s mind worked, and the complete ludicrousness of the plan itself. 

“Oh Emma… you are a sweetheart, and I know you mean well, but that is a terrible idea.” Regina said, indeed touched but with a far greater sense of reality than the blonde seemed to possess.

“Why?” 

It seemed it was now Emma’s turn to ask the question, and it came out of her mouth much like Henry said it when she denied him something he felt he was clearly entitled to—usually cookies or a game console. 

“I don’t think the phone is the best medium for this discussion, but let me suffice in saying that some bridges are far too burnt to even begin restoration.” Regina answered as gently as she could, but she couldn’t completely erase the edge to her voice. “My history with Miss Lucas, I am sure, is one of them.” She added, and felt herself regretting the truth of the statement.

“So what if I told you Ruby has already agreed to come?” Emma said triumphantly, ad Regina’s eyes widened. 

“She did…?” She questioned and couldn’t help how surprised and sickeningly hopeful her voice sounded. 

“Yep, just now. She did make me promise she would be leaving in one piece at the end of the evening, but I assured her that would not be an issue.” A pause. “That won’t be an issue, right?” Emma questioned, and Regina’s heart broke a little.

“No, Emma. It won’t be an issue.” Regina answered a little too roughly. This whole discussion was painful and brought back a lot of memories—not to mention insecurities. She tried valiantly not to fall back onto old habits.

“Hey… are you okay…? I didn’t mean to sound like I thought you were going to hurt her or anything, but you know… I have been known not to think things through on occasion.” Emma sounded genuinely worried for Regina and it worked like a balm to her aching heart.

“It’s alright, dear. I am… not proud of the way I treated Miss Lucas in the past and if you think this will work out, than I would like to try.” Regina answered truthfully, glossing over the turmoil in her head and heart.

“Oh, it will. I will be at the mansion at six, we’ll order pizza, and then we’ll just… watch a movie. No strings, no huge confessionals. It will be fun!” Emma’s enthusiasm was infectious, although Regina very much doubted this was actually a truthful representation of what the evening was going to be. Regina vowed to try, though, to show Ruby she had changed and to try to make up for some of the damage. 

“Alright, if you believe it, it must be true, Savior.” Regina teased and Emma huffed. Quickly changing the subject now she found an opening to do so, Regina continued on. 

“Are you coming by tonight?” she asked hopefully, but trying to keep her voice conversational. Emma had slept at the mansion three out of the seven nights of the past week—much to Henry’s excitement and minor confusion—and Regina had very much enjoyed waking up in Emma’s arms this morning before a quick breakfast and a somewhat successful magic lesson before Emma had to leave.

“I can’t. My parents have claimed my presence. Snow is feeling guilty for cancelling on girl’s night tomorrow evening for an anniversary, and she has been missing me at home. So we will be doing wine and awkward-avoidance-of-the-truth tonight.” Emma answered with a groan. “Let me tell you, I would much rather spent the night with you.” She added with a wicked lilt to her voice. Regina grinned as a shiver coursed through her body. She really did miss Emma.

“Good answer, Miss Swan.” Regina teased, letting her desire for the blonde come through for a moment.

“Uh… I hate to do this, but I have to go. I’ve been standing still in a ‘no parking’-zone for so long I should be giving myself a ticket. Tomorrow, six PM. I’ll bring popcorn.” Emma said in a rush, and Regina laughed.

“Go! Keep the town safe.” She answered and Emma grinned.

“Always, Madam Mayor.” Emma answered, and then the connection cut out. Regina sat in the grass for long moments before she put the phone back in her pocket and pulled her working gloves back on to pull weeds from her already immaculate garden. Her head was swimming from the information just bestowed upon her and she tried to wrap her head around Red Riding Hood’s motivations for agreeing to a movie night at the mansion, with Regina. The thought that Ruby was just that kind of person was lost on her, however.


	4. Operation Monarch Butterfly: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to Bastille's 'Laura Palmer'

By five PM on Friday, Regina was climbing the walls for a cigarette. She had—begrudgingly—asked Emma to help her quit them and Emma was being very strict about it. She hadn’t smoked a single cigarette since the Thursday before last and she could really, really use one now. Not only was she nervous about seeing the woman who went by Ruby, Henry was so excited about the night’s events, he hadn’t stopped bouncing since he came home from school yesterday. It was like Christmas had come early for him: three of his favorite people in the whole wide world, movies, and sugary goodness. He had been in such a good mood yesterday, he had asked her to play on the Xbox with him.

It had been so long since Henry had made an effort to include her in his life, there was no way she was going to say no, even if it involved the frustrating and embarrassing experience of running into the edge of the map again and again instead of managing to chase the tiny blue orbs as was expected of her in Disney Infinity. Henry had literally tumbled off of the couch as she managed to get her yellow orb stuck in a corner for the third time, but it was the laugh he laughed when she used to tickle him until he surrendered, or when she had chased him through the yard in a game of tag. It was music to her ears, and it made her stop caring she looked like all non-trained adults with a controller: like an idiot.

As soon as Henry came home today, he had asked her if Ruby and Emma were still coming over, and she was happy to tell him they still were. She hadn’t spoken to Emma since late last night when they had both been in bed, but as far as she had heard, nothing had changed. From that moment on, Henry had hardly stopped speaking and while she loved the boy with all her heart, she was about to take his ability to speak away.

Regina sipped her wine—white, because somehow the thought of drinking red wine while Ruby was around had made her even more nervous—and watched as Henry poured over the on-line menu of the pizza parlor. It was a very rare event in the Mills household to order pizza, and while the arrival of Emma Swan into Henry’s life had afforded him plenty of unhealthy dinner choices, there was something extra special about greasy Italian food in a box, delivered by a kamikaze pilot on a scooter.

“So, I am thinking Hawaii?” Henry asked, intending to share a pizza with his mother. She nodded with a loving smile. In the end, he would be swapping his share of the pizza with Emma and Ruby anyway, so he was going to have a little of everything that came into the house. Regina was simply relishing in the happiness her son exuded. Neverland hadn’t been easy on him. His time with Pan had changed him in ways Regina was still discovering, but at least tonight, he was her little boy again.

“That sounds delicious, Henry.” She assured. He grinned a toothy grin at her and glanced at the clock longingly for the fourth time in the last five minutes. He was waiting for Emma—and Ruby. 

“It’s going to be a while yet.” She said in reaction and sat her glass down on the table. As he sighed, she tapped the spot on the couch next to her. He came to her easily and she smiled, especially when he sat next to her, not at the other end of the couch. She patted his leg a little and he looked up at her, seemingly sensing she was not done talking. 

“I think maybe we should have a little talk.” She eventually did add, and he looked at her with question marks in his eyes. 

“…about the events of last week, for example, when Emma and I came to your sleep-over. Perhaps you also have questions about why Emma has been spending the night at our house, and why we aren’t yelling at each other anymore?” She offered the boy and he shrugged.

“Emma told you she loves you and you told her you love her and now you are friends.” Henry answered and Regina smiled at him despite her mild embarrassment to discuss her romantic life with her eleven year old son.

“Yes…” Regina agreed. “That is, indeed, partly what has happened.” She said and gathered the courage to broach this subject again. “Henry, do you remember when we had that talk about what happens when a man and a woman love each other very much? How they have a special relationship?” Henry’s eyes shot up at her in panic. Neither of them had very pleasant memories of that particular conversation.

“Mom, please!” he begged. “I know about love, okay, and I remember about what you told me about kissing and stuff and where babies come from.” He looked miserable. She imagined she did as well. 

“I know you do, Henry. I am only… referencing to that talk because I want you to know that Emma and I, we love each other in the way that we spoke about then. We love each other like Mary Margret and David do.” Regina said tentatively, and was suddenly visited upon by a vision of Emma’s parents having sex. She promptly lost her appetite. Henry looked like he had just lost his as well.

“Mom… I know… I got that from like… all the kissing I keep walking in on. I’m fine with it; Emma is my mom and you are my mom and now you are together like grandma and grandpa. Why is this a big deal?” He asked and Regina ran the back of her fingers over his face in affection, touched by his words and incredibly embarrassed as well.

“Well, for one, I wanted to check if you were alright—which you are, and I am very happy about that—and I also brought it up because I have something I must ask of you. We need you to keep this a secret for a little while. Many people do not like me, and they might be mad at Emma when they find out she loves me.” Regina said, hoping she had put the complicated situation into words easy enough to grasp for her son without downplaying the importance of his silence.

“That’s stupid…” He huffed, and she nodded.

“it is, but it is also very important.” She added. He was quiet for a bit, obviously contemplating the situation, and she gave him the time he needed.

“Okay, It’ll be a secret. I won’t tell anyone.” He promised and she smiled. She reached out for a hug and he swung his small arms around her neck for a moment, letting her hug him close. She relished in the feeling, secretly inhaling the scent of her son.

“Mom…?” He asked as he pulled back.

“Yes, Henry?” She answered lightly, relieved at the current turn of events. She had meant to talk to him about this earlier, but had been waiting for him to give her an opening. It seemed like the events of Zero Hour were permanently in the past for him, and he had accepted the changed dynamic between Emma and her effortlessly. Her opening never came, so she had eventually been forced to create it. 

“Why is Ruby coming over?” He asked her, instinctively understanding she was somehow involved in all of this, but failing to fit the pieces together. She didn’t blame him.

“It was your mother’s idea,” She said, obviously not talking about herself. He still looked confused. “Emma is under the impression that people will be less mad at me if they spent time with me when I’m… pleasant.” She eventually simplified the situation. “Ruby is a good friend of Emma’s, and she is very fond of you. I think Emma thought Ruby was a good person to start Operation Monarch Butterfly with.” Regina added with a smile. Henry seemed to consider this.

“I know what a monarch is, and I know about monarch butterflies, but why is the operation named after it?” Henry asked, and Regina laughed merrily. 

“Ask your mom when she gets here.” She said and watched her son’s face go thoughtful again. This time it took him a little longer.

“Mom…? Don’t you kind of… hate Ruby…?” He eventually questioned, not really looking up at her. Regina sighed and ran a hand over his head, remembering the time when she could just pull him onto her lap and cuddle him, and she had meant the world to him—no Evil Queen, no pain, no bad blood. She was just his mother; the woman who tucked him into bed and made him Sunday pancakes.

“I don’t hate Ruby.” She eventually said softly, knowing she would need to say more. “I was mad at her for a very long time, because I was very mad at myself and about what had happened to me. Ruby just tried to help Snow White, and I was blinded enough by my own pain that I could not see how bad the things I was doing were.” She explained, finding truth in the words—although they did not make them any easier to say because of it. Henry seemed to consider this and nodded.

“Alright.” He said, obviously finding the situation explained to his satisfaction. “So you like Ruby now?” He asked, and Regina flashed again to the younger woman standing up to her in the town hall.

“I would like to get to know her better, yes.” She eventually answered and Henry seemed to be satisfied with that. Their moment was shattered by a knock on the door. Regina wondered if it was too early to just give Emma her own key to the front door. She was about to get up, but Henry beat her to it, sliding off of the couch and sprinting through the room to the hallway, accompanied by his mother’s warning about running in the house. He slowed down to a speed just barely permitted and Regina followed him slowly with a smirk. She watched him open the door to the blonde who made her heart beat just a little faster when she laid eyes on her and watched the two interact as Henry took the bottle of coke from Emma, as well as the popcorn and a DVD. Emma’s eyes met hers briefly across the hallway and she smiled happily at the dark haired woman. Regina let out a breath. It was good to see her again. Very good. Just laying eyes on the woman lessened her nerves and frustration at said nerves.

Crossing the last bit of distance between them, Regina once more told Henry not to run as he headed into the TV room and sauntered up to Emma, pressing herself into her personal space and pulling the woman closer to her by the belt loops. Emma grinned but glanced over Regina’s shoulder to make sure Henry was not there. She raised a questioning eyebrow and Regina smiled.

“We talked, he approves. I don’t suggest traumatizing him too badly, but he is happy for us and I think he would not mind it if I kissed his mother ‘hello’.” Regina explained and Emma grinned happily.

“Awesome.” She stated eloquently before pulling Regina closer and kissing her chastely, lingering a few seconds. Regina melted into the kiss, finding her body releasing its tension in Emma’s strong arms and against soft lips. The hunger for nicotine faded in the light of this better drug. She hummed softly in the back of her throat and Emma pulled her a little closer before releasing her. Emma’s darkened eyes met hers in a silent promise and Regina nodded happily before reaching out for Emma’s hand and walking with her to the TV room.

The next half hour passed in a blur for Regina who allowed Emma to take charge of ordering pizza and entertaining Henry while she tried to settle her nerves with a few more sips of wine and an equal amount of dark thoughts about Ruby. There had been a time she could have—would have—crushed the woman’s heart into powder had she been given half the chance, and here she was, steadying herself to vie for her consideration and favor. The whole affair left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth but Regina fought against it, knowing full well that these feelings were a manifestation of her own insecurities. 

She didn’t believe this evening would turn out well, but she would see it through—for Emma, for Henry—both of whom were discussing Operation Monarch Butterfly in hushed tones despite the woman sitting not five feet away from them. Regina enjoyed the display: heads close together, hands animated as they talked… obviously the two of them truly believed that this operation could be a success, while Regina had found that nearly fifty years of terror was almost impossible to overcome—if not truly impossible.

She allowed herself a moment of hope—perhaps one day she could leave the house without fear, perhaps one day she would be welcomed at Granny’s, perhaps one day her love for Emma would not cause the blonde’s destruction—but the feeling was torn away as a knock on the door drew three people out of their musings. Regina swallowed, her heart thumping in her chest. Her eyes found Emma’s effortlessly and the younger woman smiled reassuringly as Henry launched for the door. Regina stood, smoothing down her skirt, and Emma raised herself as well, walking up to her to squeeze her hand before heading towards the hallway. 

Alright… this was it. Regina took a steadying breath and tried to find a posture between the openness she shared with Henry and Emma, and the closed-off Mayor role she had held for so long. In the end she just felt awkward, but stepped into the hallway, regardless. Operation Monarch Butterfly: part one was about to launch.


	5. Operation Monarch Butterfly: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to Snow Patrol's 'Set Fire To The Third Bar'

Regina walked into the hallway to find Ruby holding up a six-pack of beers while her son was clasped around her midriff and Emma was trying to usher the wolf girl inside enough to close the door. The effort was hampered by said eleven-year old, who was perhaps getting a little too old to hug Miss Lucas in this way. Regina mused about that as she watched Emma take the beers and peel Henry off of Ruby, who grinned a little sheepishly at the display. 

Regina was suddenly at a loss for words; she felt wholly alien during the heartfelt exchange and realized all the more how large the gap was between Emma and Henry’s experiences in a social context, and hers. She had always been distant with the citizens of Storybrooke—Kathryn Nolan being the exception, but even that minimal relationship had cooled once the curse was broken—and it pained her to realize she simply did not know how to socially engage with another human being in a way that was beneficial to both and served no ulterior agenda. She had never been taught, nor given the chance to learn it. Even her interactions with Kathryn had been awkward.

While Regina was silently panicking, she missed an exchange between Ruby and Emma, who obviously didn’t really know how to go forward from this point either. As the social lifesaver he—and all children with him—was, Henry broke the ice for them. He came bounding up to Regina and held up a DVD box which he shoved into her stomach, causing her to automatically unclench her fists and tear her eyes down onto whatever was just so unceremoniously handed to her as she fumbled to grab it.

“Look what Ruby brought!” Henry squeaked excitedly—and she did. It seemed she was holding a movie box set in her hands. It took her a few seconds to figure out the titles and then smiled a genuine smile at her boy. It seems Ruby had brought Henry’s absolute favorite movies of all time: Ghostbusters one and two. She ran a hand though his hair and handed the box back to him. They had the DVD’s in their collection, but holding Ruby’s copies was obviously extra special.

“Well, that is an excellent choice Miss Lucas made there,” she said genuinely, looking up at the very end of the sentence to finally meet Ruby’s eyes. While the woman was smiling, she could see the same reservations in Ruby’s eyes as she was sure were in her own.

“I remembered he likes them, and it never gets old to see Dan Aykroyd running around with a vacuum cleaner on his back.” Ruby answered as she walked into the house further, trailed by Emma who was still carrying beer.

“Thank you for the invite, Regina,” Ruby added, defying Regina to balk at the use of her first name. Regina was also quite sure Ruby was well aware this whole affair was not her idea. It took Emma’s pleading eyes to calm Regina and help her work through the discomfort that threatened to cause her to go off—as she always did. The shoulders that had come up subconsciously were lowered and Regina plastered on a smile that did not reach her eyes but was the most genuine she could manage at the moment.

“You are very welcome here… Ruby.” She answered airily, recognizing her ‘Mayor’-voice but unable to give Ruby—and Emma—anything less formal. “It was Emma’s idea to organize this event, but you have made my son very happy so I wholeheartedly embrace it.” She added, trying to apply the radical honesty she had established with Emma to her interactions with Ruby, even though it caused her to feel a little off-kilter… and vulnerable. Regina hated feeling vulnerable. 

Ruby looked at her a long moment and then nodded with a smile that was much like the Ruby Regina had observed in the diner—genuine as far as she could tell. 

“I like movies.” She said as an explanation, and added a shrug for good measure. Regina smiled as best she could—which was still somewhat halfheartedly. She wished she could do better but she was fighting her walls every step of this exchange and Emma’s presence was actually making it harder instead of easier; because of Emma, she actually wanted to do better. She suddenly understood Emma’s fear of failing something; Regina had always felt sure she would succeed at whatever she did—she simply could not afford not to—now, though, the felt adrift. It was not a feeling she enjoyed.

It was Emma who came to the rescue by swishing off Ruby to the TV room with an utterance of ‘Ooookay, time for that beer!’, letting Regina collect her thoughts—and a new glass of wine from the kitchen. 

Regina leaned down on the counter, shifting her weight to a single leg. She was Regina Mills, Evil Queen, Mayor, mother. She had fought much harder battles than a movie night with a mangy mutt in leather pants. Huffing, Regina tried to force herself to believe it, but she didn’t manage to without actually embracing the Evil Queen inside of her—something Emma would be vehemently against.

As the sounds of the pre-movie trailers drifted over to the kitchen, she became aware of a second presence in the room; a certain blonde who greeted her with a soft ‘hey’, and then wrapped her arms around her from behind. It took Regina a while to relax into the moment but she eventually did, leaning her head back on Emma’s shoulder as her arms wrapped around those on her stomach.

“I’m not sure I can do this…” Regina admitted and fought the tears that came to her dark eyes. It would not do to cry. In fact, that would be the worst thing to do at this moment. She sighed when Emma patiently kissed her neck and pulled her a little closer. 

“Come join us, sit with me on the couch. Henry can sit with Ruby and he’ll be the happiest boy ever. Just watch the movie and if you feel the need to talk, you talk. Ruby’s just here to have a good time, with Henry, with me, and with you if you allow her to. I know what a warm, giving, and funny woman you are and it would be great if Ruby saw some of that tonight.” Emma murmured against Regina’s ear. When Regina didn’t give the desired reaction—namely any reaction at all—Emma added:

“…and if you do, I promise you can get a taste of me tonight; as a little incentive.” 

This time Regina smiled—that sounded a lot more like the Emma Swan she had come to know—and tilted her head so it rested against Emma’s. She considered a sassy remark but was too wired to do so and be sure it didn’t come across crass. The only other alternative was a sappy answer, and she felt too vulnerable for that. Instead, she just enjoyed the moment, and then tapped Emma’s hand lightly to indicate she wanted to be released. Untangling, Regina turned around and captured Emma’s lips lightly, flicking her tongue over them a moment before breaking away, leaving Emma hanging for more.

“I look forward to that.” Regina whispered huskily and sauntered off, feeling strengthened by her exchange with the encouraging sheriff. She walked into the TV room with her glass of wine in hand, finding Ruby and Henry already engrossed in the trailers and was surprised to feel touched by the display. Where was the woman who would have preferred to rip out the heart of the person who threatened her relationship with her son? Sitting on the other couch the room held and crossing her legs neatly, she raised her glass at Ruby, who raised her can of beer in return. Perhaps she could do this after all, Regina mused.

The movie brought back memories—lots of them, in fact. The movie was a Mills household Christmas special, seeing as they never really celebrated the festival. The citizens in Storybrooke never found the odd tradition fit their lives—possibly a remnant of a world where Christmas did not exist—and so Henry had never had much interest in it either. They usually got a small tree and Regina bought a few presents, although she never let Henry believe a man in a flying sled with reindeer strapped to them dropped them down a chimney. The things that humans came up with… really; no, the presents were from her, and when Henry had been old enough to participate, he started making her things to give her; a drawing, a little story, a framed picture of them with drawings on the glass… she had kept all of his little Christmas projects, and pulled them out of her desk drawer every now and again to look at the history her son and her shared. 

It was tradition to wake up early on Christmas morning, exchange one present and then make a big breakfast together which they ate on the ground in front of the tree. Afterwards, they exchanged the remaining presents and settled into the couch to watch Ghostbusters. Around three PM, their celebration was usually completed, but they had dinner together in the evening that Henry got to choose and sometimes they went ice-skating at the park. These were memories Regina cherished, and they came back to her as she watched the movie, hearing Henry laugh at the terrible special effect ghosts and the story. She realized the movie was very much age-inappropriate, but Henry loved it and she indulged him. 

About three quarters through—in which Regina had tried not to sink into Emma, Emma tried to do the same, and three pizza’s had been wolfed down—Emma left for a bathroom break. Regina felt her heart swell when Henry crossed the room after a few whispered words to Ruby—who nodded with a smile—and climbed on the couch with her. She held out her arms and he settled into her embrace like he always did when they watched the movie. When Emma returned, she took Henry’s spot on the other couch, and watched Regina and Henry as they whispered to each other every now and again and both women looked away from the screen in surprise as Henry squealed—finding Regina covering his eyes as a partially undressed Sigourney Weaver came to the screen. Both were laughing as Henry tried to wrestle free—true to form—and failed miserably, being held tightly by Regina, who felt so care-free for a moment that she let out a true laugh at the situation, ticking Henry who kicked the air and squirmed. By the time Henry managed to get out of the embrace, his hair was tossed, his cheeks were red, his smile was face-splitting and the partial nudity was gone. Regina drank in the moment, knowing full well that before long, this tradition would die. She had feared that with Ruby here, Henry would not be willing to be a little boy—his insecurities at being hugged in front of anyone, especially of the opposite gender, was increasing, and she was quite sure Henry had at least a little crush on Ruby—but for now, his love for his mother coupled with the nostalgia the memories of the movie evoked was enough to overcome that.

Once they had settled again, Regina happened to glance over to the other couch and found both pairs of eyes on them—Ruby with a mixture of surprise and awe, and Emma with joy overshadowing a deeper layer of pain. Regina made a mental note to ask Emma about it later, although she could guess where the sadness came from: Emma did not have these traditions with her son; no common history. Regina was Henry’s legal mother, had cared for him for years, and she could guess Emma was thinking about all the firsts she had missed—smile, laugh, fever, tooth, step, word. It pained Regina to think about Emma’s sense of loss, but could not deny the great joy Henry had brought to her life. She loved him, with all her heart, and she was happy she had been able to show the two women that. Henry had been distant to her—judgmental, sometimes even hateful—for as long as Emma knew him and while Ruby had most likely seen her interact with her son on multiple occasions—many a birthday dinner had been had at Granny’s after all—she wasn’t sure if Ruby could link it to the woman she now had restored memories of.

In the end, Regina didn’t talk to Ruby much besides trivialities, but when the three of them walked Ruby to the door—Emma lagging behind at the mansion under the guise of helping Regina clean up—Ruby never the less turned to Regina and regarded her silently a moment. Then she dipped her head and smiled in a way that was far more Red than Ruby.

“Come by the diner sometimes, okay, Regina? We took the club sandwich off of the menu a while back, but I’ll make you one.” Ruby offered and Regina felt a pang of genuine relief and warmth wash over her. This time her smile did reach her eyes. She extended her hand and Ruby took it, squeezing gently as they cemented that a step had been made—a small one, but a step, regardless.

“I would like that.” Regina admitted truthfully, and reveled in the way she did not feel exposed like a nerve as she did. Hands released and Henry went in for the hug. Ruby grinned her tell-tale wolfish Ruby grin and hugged him close for a moment before peeling him off of her and running a hand through his hair. 

“Come along, alright? I’m sure your mother will let you have pancakes.” Ruby teased conspiratorially and Regina’s eyebrows narrowed dangerously before Emma elbowed her in the arm and Regina’s face split into a smile.

“Alright, alright; pancakes and a club sandwich it is.” She agreed, throwing her hands up. 

“Now, out of my house, Miss Lucas…” She said sternly. “A certain someone has stayed up way past his bedtime.” Then her voice softened—something that became easier every time she did it. “But I would it if you came back for another movie night one day.” She added and Ruby nodded.

“Have your agent call mine. We’ll set something up.” Ruby said in the same spirit as Regina before hugging Emma, who had watched the exchange in silence and a bit guardedly, fearful something could go wrong so near the end of this trial run. 

“I will… Ruby. Have a good night and a safe drive home.” Regina greeted and with a wave of her hand, Ruby was off. The three of them remained in the door opening until Ruby was off, and Regina had never felt so stereotypically normal in her life. Once she closed the door and turned to Emma, she found a megawatt smile aimed at her and was suddenly engulfed in strong arms and blonde curls. Slightly taken aback, it took Regina a second to adjust, but when she did, she settled easily in Emma’s arms and inhaled her scent deeply. 

“You did brilliantly, mom!” She could hear her son say and reached out to him blindly, including him in their small celebration. “Operation Monarch Butterfly is totally happening!” He beamed and Emma hugged her a little tighter.

“Proud of you.” Emma spoke softly in her ear and Regina shivered. Yes, perhaps the operation was, indeed ‘happening’.


	6. Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note of the updated tags! This chapter can only be classified as gratuitous fan service and smut, but it does serve a function in the greater story. As such, you really should read it ;-) Written to Cat Power's 'Wild Is The Wind' and Carina Round's 'Want More'.

Cleaning was a minimal affair, handled mostly by Regina as Emma tucked Henry into bed. Regina had returned to the couch with the third glass of wine of the evening long before Emma came down, opening a beer and crawling up to her. Regina smiled as the woman groaned about Henry’s lack of willingness to sleep and about some of his not so well thought out ideas for Operation Butterfly. Regina snorted into her glass in a very unladylike manner when Emma told her Henry had suggested a line dancing event—“Because mom would never do that! It would be perfect to let everyone know she has changed!”—and she had dryly remarked that she would rather blow up the town than subject anyone to that. Emma had grinned and helped her to her feet so they could head to bed. 

Disposing the last of the trash, turning off the lights and checking the doors and windows, Regina let herself be led up the staircase, following Emma who was purposefully moving towards the bedroom. Not a second after the door closed, Regina found herself with her back pressed against it and Emma’s lips upon her own. She groaned deeply and slipped her arms around Emma’s neck to pull her closer. Hands tangled in thick blonde hair and pulled her forward forcefully, crushing their mouths together in need. 

Ever since Zero Hour, their lovemaking had been passionate but somewhat subdued—a far cry from the abuse that they had sometimes suffered at the hands of the other when they were still mostly having angry sexual encounters that left poison in her gut. Yet, Regina had missed this—she had missed being _taken_ , had missed the passion she knew Emma had in her. And so, when Emma’s hand roughly palmed her breast, she encouraged her to continue by jerking her hips forward and thrusting her tongue between swelling lips. Emma growled deep in the back of her throat and Regina felt herself grow wet in response. Emma had always brought out an amount of passion in her that she had hardly thought herself capable of. 

Emma tore her mouth away and eyes met for a second—deep green drilling into deeper black—before Emma dipped her head and explored Regina’s neck with her mouth, alternating between lips, tongue and teeth, and Regina felt her world spinning; quickly losing control of her faculties at the onslaught of sensations. She tangled her hands more roughly into Emma’s hair and pulled her up for another bruising kiss while Emma rolled a stiff nipple between her fingers through Regina’s silk shirt and lace bra. Regina tore her mouth away, her head lolling back, and moaned deeply, causing Emma to once more attack her neck. Teeth scraped over a tender collarbone before her tongue dragged itself upwards, finding that spot just below Regina’s ear that drove her wild. 

“Fuck!” Regina growled and she felt more than heard Emma laugh darkly at the curse word that tore from Regina’s mouth. Regina did not care—all she wanted now, needed now, was Emma inside her. Reaching for Emma’s hand, she guided it unceremoniously to her core, hiking up her loose skirt as she did so. 

“Fuck me…” She pleaded in Emma’s ear, clinging to her as she let go of Emma’s hand as it started to move on its own accord. Emma didn’t acknowledge her in words, but pushed past the flimsy material of her drenched thong and rubbed her clit with two fingers, trapping it between them as she once more claimed Regina’s mouth. Regina was lost, riding the waves of pleasure that Emma greedily drank from her lips—silencing her just as much as urging her on. Henry was a heavy sleeper once he slept, but there was no way to tell for sure if he actually was asleep except for stopping and checking, and Regina would have none of that. 

Adjusting to feel more of Emma on her and against her, Regina pulled at her own shirt. Emma—catching on—made enough room for Regina to get it off. They didn’t bother unclasping the delicate black lace beneath it; instead, Regina pushed the bra up and forced Emma’s head down as Emma continued to rub her clit relentlessly. Regina was sure Emma knew she wanted—needed—more, but while the situation was frustrating, she also relished every second of it. 

Regina’s nails dug into Emma’s shoulders and she felt Emma shudder against her. Regina’s arousal grew as emerald eyes stormy with passion met hers and she felt Emma watch her as she dipped her hand lower and penetrated her expertly with a single digit. Regina let Emma see exactly what the action caused in her and rode out a wave of desperate need that had her gasping for breath.

“Emma…” she pleaded—cursed—as quietly as she managed to make herself, and Emma’s mouth was once more on hers. There was no restraint now; as Emma fucked her in the awkward position they found themselves in, they drank hungrily from each other’s mouths—moans, encouragements, pleas and curses—until Emma once more took a straining nipple into her mouth and her thumb found Regina’s clit. Regina knew she would lose the battle with her own desires soon, but delayed the inevitable as long as she possibly could, partly because it just felt so damn good, and partly to not let Emma win so easily. Still, it was obvious how this was going to play out and when Emma bit down on her aching nipple, Regina had to bite the mouse of her own hand to keep from shouting as she gasped Emma’s name and came for her with such intensity that it was solely Emma holding her up by pinning her against the door. 

Once she regained some semblance of awareness, she found Emma dropping soft kisses on her breasts, neck and then her face. She tiled her head to meet her lips, kissing her deeply but with less urgency, a reaffirming kiss, as she felt a few hot tears trail down her face at the marvel that this thing with Emma was—whatever it was. She didn’t have the mental faculties at the moment to even try to gain some clarity in that confusion.

“You are gorgeous…” Emma husked against the shell of her ear and Regina shivered, even more so when Emma slowly removed her drenched digit from within Regina and pressed the flat of her hand over her sex, holding her close as they kissed again and again, Emma obviously fighting her own desires while Regina regained her strength. It didn’t take long for the fires within Regina to flare again, and she took control of the kiss the women were sharing. 

Pushing against Emma, the blonde stepped back, moving with Regina until her legs hit the back of the bed and their kiss was broken by gravity. Regina grinned her most wicked smile as she released Emma so she fell down onto the mattress, and licked her full lips as she stepped back. She could see Emma’s eyes rake over her disheveled form and reveled in the power the desire in those green eyes was evoking in her. Swaying lightly to unheard music, Regina unhooked her bra, cupping her breasts and squeezing them as Emma’s lips parted in need. Still, the blonde lay silently on the bed, propped up on both elbows, waiting for Regina to continue or come to her, or do whatever she deemed was the correct next step.

The correct next step, Regina decided, was to slide her hands down her body seductively and run down the zipper of her skirt, letting the crumpled garment fall to the ground in a heap. She let Emma’s eyes feast on her before also sliding out of her useless thong. Running her fingers through the lips of her sex, Regina found herself amazed at the wetness pooling here. While her experience with sex was very limited, she was quite sure she had rarely been this wet—and never with anyone but Emma. Shaken out of her musings by Emma—who was shifting her hips minutely, obviously hoping to find some relief by pushing against tight denim—Regina moved to take off her heels. Emma pushed herself up like a spring.

“No!” She rasped. Regina lifted an eyebrow as she smirked her fool-proof smirk. Emma sunk back onto the bed, and blushed to down into her shirt. “Leave them on…” She answered Regina’s unvoiced question and Regina lowered her leg again, standing up to her full height as she stepped closer to Emma. 

“Whatever you want, my dear…” She answered, her predatory desires plainly readable in the tone of her voice. As she moved closer, she fixed Emma with a look, locking eyes with her and seeing Emma’s eyes widen by the obvious mischief in Regina’s. The dark haired woman couldn’t wait to show Emma the full scope of her desire. 

“Undress.” Regina ordered and Emma fumbled to reply, pulling off her shirt and bra, then dropping her boots to the floor and shimmying out of her jeans in record time. Before long, her panties were on top of the pile as well, and she lay bare before Regina, who raked her eyes appreciatively over the blonde’s flawless body, as she smirked with desire.

As her knee impacted on the bed, Emma scooted up, moving with her until Regina could sit up over Emma’s prone form, one leg between Emma’s, the other to her side. She pushed Emma down by the chest, and Emma fell onto the mattress flat, pupils dilated in need, her breathing shallow.

“You look so good, Emma…” Regina purred, and Emma shivered. Regina ran a finger down the valley between Emma’s breasts to her taunt stomach and traced the line with her eyes before meeting Emma’s eyes again. “…I could just eat you…” she added wickedly and Emma groaned as her eyes closed.

“Please, Regina.” Emma pleaded, hands sliding to Regina’s bare knees, but Regina rushed to grab them and push them down on either side of Emma’s body.

“Don’t touch me.” She snapped. “Now it’s my turn…” Regina promised and Emma shifted uncomfortably against the restraint still placed upon her wrists. The blonde subconsciously licked her lips and nodded. It would do. Regina released the hands below her and slid her own up Emma’s stomach. It wasn’t long before she reached perfect breasts that she palmed appreciatively. Two rock hard peaks reached for her touch and Emma moaned emphatically as soon as the stimulation hit her system, arching her back to get more of it. Regina complied and massaged the perfection contained within her grasp. Her eyes took in every minute movement, her ears listened for every sound. She could feel Emma squirm under her hips… God, she wanted to fuck her so badly it hurt.

Her need got the better of her; Regina was not in the business of denying herself what she really wanted. Retracting her hands, she shifted so she sat between Emma’s legs and pushed them apart to reveal the treasure hidden between Emma’s legs. She could see the glint of desire plainly on Emma’s lips and it made her swallow hard against her own desire and emotion; she had gotten used to Emma having this effect on her, but to see it returned in the blonde was a wonder onto itself. 

She flattened herself on the bed as Emma raised her hands above her head, anticipating Regina’s next move. Regina lasted only a few more moments before she ran her hands up Emma’s toned legs bending forward to audibly inhale the scent of her prone lover.

“God, Emma… you smell so good.” She complimented, breaking character for a moment in genuine appreciation of the woman before her. Emma grinned and looked at her, begging her up with a motion of her hand. Overcome for a moment, Regina crawled up over the woman’s body—relishing the feel of skin meeting skin—and met her lips in a passionate lock that left them both panting. 

Emma let herself be overpowered easily, and Regina milked her power over the blonde for all it was worth. She bit Emma’s lower lip until she felt Emma shudder and she tasted blood. She rapidly pulled back to apologize, but once she pulled herself up, she could see the deep desire in Emma. With a moan, she claimed Emma’s lips once more, letting the woman’s blood mix with saliva and didn’t correct Emma when Emma’s hand wrapped into her hair to bring her closer, letting Regina claim her mouth fully before Regina broke free. 

“I need you…” Emma pleaded once she got her breathing under control and Regina nodded, slinking down the town’s sheriff’s body with a short stop to suck roughly on both nipples in turn, causing Emma to writhe on the bed and grab the sheets below her in need. 

“Please, Regina… please…” 

Regina slid lower, no longer feeling the need to tease. No, she wanted to taste, to suckle gorged skin, to cause shudder after shudder within the woman below her. Once she reached the neatly trimmed strip of curls covering Emma’s sex, she got her first taste of Emma’s desire. Pressing her lips down, Regina hummed against Emma’s core, causing a shudder to go through Emma’s form. 

“Regina!” 

The need in Emma’s voice was addictive, and in response, Regina finally allowed herself to fully taste the blonde, who moaned emphatically, an arm falling over her eyes as she became overwhelmed by sensation. Regina lost herself in the taste of her lover, and in drawing out more and louder moans from Emma, who was holding on to the bed sheet for life as she tossed around. With lips coated by desire, Regina pulled away, leaving Emma groaning, eyes flickering open in confusion and need.

“Wha—Oh…fuuuuck….” Emma drew out as Regina replaced her tongue with two fingers, pressing into Emma up to the knuckles. Regina once more settled over one of Emma’s legs as she roughly cupped Emma’s right breast and pinched the nipple between her fingers. She set a steadying, deep, rhythm with her other hand, causing Emma’s hips to rise and meet her and before long, Regina had to slide her other hand up to Emma’s chest to at least keep her in the same location, she was squirming so much in her desire.

Emma was glorious, so wet and needy around her fingers, and probably vocal enough to alarm their son if Regina had not invested in thick walls when the curse went up. While sex had not been the immediate concern then—adopting a son hadn’t even be in the cards at that time—she did want to insure maximum privacy in any of the rooms. 

She worked her fingers expertly, having the experience of encounter after encounter to perfect the art of manipulating Emma’s body towards orgasm. Emma was lost, solely reacting to the sensations brought forth in her, moaning almost continuously in desire. Regina was so lost in causing pleasure to the blonde, she jumped when she felt Emma’s hand on her wrist—still attached to the hand planted firmly on Emma’s chest. Emma met her eyes and bit her lip as she pulled the extremity up towards her neck and Regina’s heart missed a beat as her hand settled along the slender column of Emma’s neck. 

Light choking had been part of their sexual encounters before, but it had been one of the activities that had made Regina feel worst about herself once they parted—having sent Emma off with red skin and burning lungs. It was something that had just happened when a fight ended up in angry sex, filled with pain and hunger. Emma had never done it to her, but she had done it to Emma quite a few times. The anger that had been Emma’s eyes every time her hand closed around her throat had haunted Regina for days every time it had happened, although it had urged her on at the time. Now, she wondered if she hadn’t misinterpreted Emma’s desire for anger.

She squeezed lightly—experimentally—and Emma’s hand fell away from her wrist, Emma’s eyes closing and Regina felt her walls contracting around the fingers inside of her. She increased her thrusts, making Emma moan until she squeezed harder with her hand, causing Emma’s breath to cut off a moment before relinquishing her hold to a light squeeze again and dipping down to run her tongue over a straining nipple, sucking it into her mouth, and then biting down on it, causing Emma to gasp before Regina once again clamped down, straightening and increasing the thrusts of her fingers. 

She wanted to say something, urge Emma on, add to their play, but she couldn’t; her desire for the blonde was too great. Instead, she finally allowed herself the relief of sliding against Emma’s upper leg, still inserted between her own as she watched Emma turn redder and redder, gasping for breath as she rode Regina’s fingers. It took only a few more thrusts before Emma’s body tried to arch off of the bed, hampered by Regina’s body grinding down on her leg and the hand still around her throat. Emma’s walls gripped her tightly as she rode wave after wave of orgasm and Regina relished in the view and feel of it, sliding herself firmer against the skin below her and feeling her own orgasm not long off. 

As Emma fell back onto the bed, Regina released her neck. Emma gasped and coughed as she pushed herself up to collect Regina in her arms and kiss her with desperation. She had to break the kiss every few seconds for air, but Regina didn’t mind; as she continued to thrust into the blonde, Emma’s hand had come up and after some minute adjustments, Regina could lower herself onto Emma’s finger, riding it as she forced Emma towards another orgasm.

They rode the second wave of orgasms together, clinging to each other as much as their awkward positions would allow, but refused to part lips too long—partly to keep each other silent, mostly to relish in the feel of the other. Emma’s skin was sweaty against her, her moans like music to her ears. Every touch of the blonde added to the raging fires inside Regina, and while it had been long coming, her orgasm still hit her with surprising speed and force. She managed to take Emma with her, however, and for a few moments, it was just the two of them—no history, no magic, no operations—and it was glorious.

Boneless, the two fell back onto the bed once the euphoria wore off, Regina draping herself over Emma, both panting, both caressing the other freely. Emma’s body held very little secrets for her at this point, but it was still one of the greatest wonders in Regina’s life. Regina finally kicked off her heels. Their passion quenched, they kissed deeply—still taking breaks for breath—and recovered slowly from their experience. Regina knew she should talk, should ask, but just wanted to be for now. It took at least ten to fifteen minutes before Regina finally propped herself up to look at Emma and observe the Savior below her, who looked far more into sleeping than saving anything at the moment. 

“Are you okay?” She asked gently, running a finger over red blotches that refused to fade from Emma’s neck. Emma licked her lips and nodded, sluggishly meeting her eyes.

“Yeah…” She said and smiled. Regina scanned her face, looking for clues to identify the emotions swirling in those emerald orbs. 

“Talk to me.” Regina pleaded softly, feeling her insecurities rise in light of what had just happened—and hadn’t happened. They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ since the morning after Zero Hour, mostly because it had been said in the heat of the moment and it felt less final and awkward to show and let the other feel those emotions than saying the words. Regina didn’t worry about that, but she did want to know if the nod to their former sexual relationship was alright with Emma—who had instigated the exchange but was apparently struggling with that decision now. 

“I’m… a little embarrassed.” Emma eventually admitted, looking away before finding enough courage to meet Regina’s eyes again. A smile broke in Emma’s features and Regina found herself breathing a sigh of relief, pressing her lips tightly against Emma’s for a moment as the tension that had been building in her body released in favor of joy.

“My dear, why?” Regina asked incredulously as she kissed a line to Emma’s neck before lifting herself up and looking down upon Emma, who was indeed blushing.

“God, Regina, I don’t know! Maybe because it’s a little weird to want your lover to choke you during sex—at least every now and again?” Emma huffed, again going to her fall-back strategy of hiding in the crook of Regina’s arm. Regina laughed deeply, a rich laugh that had Emma peek out up at her to check if she wasn’t laughing at her. Regina could see it in the furrowed brow and fierce eyes Emma was throwing at her. 

“Oh Emma… if it gives you pleasure, I would do anything for you. I would be lying if I said it was not a huge turn-on for me to do that to you. It used to leave me feeling terrible, but if it is something you actually like—on occasion, don’t worry—I will be happy to let my Evil Queen reign the bedroom every now and again.” Regina confessed joyfully and was rewarded with a sloppy hug and then a genuine kiss. 

“I-I know we haven’t said it a while but… I really do love you.” Emma whispered against her lips and Regina moaned into a new kiss. Her heart soared at the words and she pressed Emma down to the bed before lifting her head and finding Emma’s eyes with hers.

“And I love you.” She answered genuinely, knowing that the words were undefined until they defined whatever was between them, but just knowing Emma cared was enough to make her heart soar.


	7. Hidden Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to Mumford & Son's version of Simon & Garfunkel's 'The Boxer'.

Emma woke up from blissful slumber by an elbow to the gut. Sputtering, she rolled over as her mind fought its way to consciousness. She dimly became aware of Regina’s naked form rushing from the bed and into the adjacent bathroom. Emma was never at her best when she had just awoken and the adventurous nighttime activities Regina and her had taken part in prior to going to bed didn’t help matters any as Emma tried to wrestle herself into a seated position, arm cradling her stomach.

“Regina…?” she slurred, and was met only by the sound of retching. Again, Emma tried to shake her way to clarity and hurried the endeavor when last night’s pizza ended up in the toilet bowl. Grumbling, she managed to wrestle her legs free from the covers and throw them out of bed. She steadied herself enough to stand, and headed into the bathroom carefully, leaning herself against the doorpost just so she could be sure she wouldn’t fall over. At least her mind was catching up to current events.

In the dim light of the late night moon, a naked Regina was hunched over the toilet, shudders running through her slender form as she dry-heaved. The sound of the reservoir filling itself again was the only sound in the room.

“Regina…?” Emma repeated, her voice soft and worried. Regina didn’t answer for a moment, then seemed to realize Emma was not going away.

“Go back to bed.” She groaned, and Emma was momentarily taken aback by the chilling distance Regina managed to put into the words. Running a hand through her tangled hair, she swallowed her instinctive reaction to lash out and instead counted to ten in her head. Regina was obviously hurting here, and her default reaction was to slap on the ‘Evil Queen’-persona and draw up every wall—even though she was currently huddled naked on the floor, having just tossed the contents of her stomach.

“What happened…?” Emma tried again, her voice calm and soothing, not unlike the one she would have used had she been confronted with a tiger or rabid dog. Another shudder tore through Regina’s form and she dry-heaved once more. Emma waited until Regina relaxed a little and caught her breath.

“Nothing. Go back to bed.” Regina said again, voice still cold, but now with an edge of exhaustion. Emma rolled her eyes and massaged her neck to calm her fight or flight instincts. She sucked at these things—badly. No one had done it for her, and she was unaccustomed to doing it for anyone else. Yet, Regina was not just anyone, and she felt compelled to not simply abandon the woman when she wasn’t feeling well.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen, so you might as well share.” Emma pressed, deciding that perhaps Regina would react better—or at least more honestly—to a new tactic. Regina’s head turned to her, eyes shining in the dim light in a combination of tears, anger, and pain. Emma weathered the storm, causing Regina to huff and straighten out. She pointed a shaking hand to her bathrobe and Emma pushed herself off of the doorpost to reach for it, stepping into the room just enough to hand it to Regina, who covered herself, rinsed her mouth, and put down the cover of the toilet seat to sit down. Emma spotted the edge of the bath and sat down as well, not caring about her own nudity. Going by her own experiences, she deduced that Regina was not in the mood to be touched or crowded in any way. As such, she waited patiently, giving Regina her space, and letting her come to her own decision. 

“I had a… nightmare.” Regina rasped, voice still cold and distant, but Emma realized she could see right through Regina’s attempt at hiding her true feelings. It was plainly on her face, in the eyes that refused to meet hers, in the way she wrung her hands, in the way her posture was somehow too… regal for the situation. Despite Emma’s claims to the effect, she wasn’t a human lie detector, but she could read people pretty well—a trait left-over from walking on eggshells throughout her youth—and Regina read like a woman in pain.

“About what?” Emma asked cautiously, going for support in her voice. She leaned forward but didn’t crowd the dark haired woman. Perhaps just being there was enough. Regina assessed her, perhaps wondering if she could handle the truth, perhaps just if she was worthy to. It took another few moments before Regina cracked her neck by tilting her head to the side and the regal posture left her. Emma relaxed a little, the woman who was revealed to her now—as Regina slouched slightly in defeat—was far closer to the Regina Emma was getting to know lately than the Evil Queen persona she had unsuccessfully tried to portray just moments ago. Again, Regina looked at her, but this time she allowed their eyes to meet.

“I dreamt about… the docks, about Greg torturing me.” She eventually confessed, and the emotional punch of her words carried far more weight than the punch Regina had accidentally given her when she stumbled out of bed. The torture session was one of those things that had happened and never been discussed. First, there was the trigger, then Henry’s abduction, and then the whole Neverland clusterfuck. Regina had seemed to be well enough for someone trotting through the jungle in heels, and Emma had to admit she had never considered Regina wasn’t fine—just like many, many, many other times in the past. Regina was so good at hiding her feelings in sass and standoffishness that Emma—and everyone else—sometimes assumed she didn’t have them.

“Shit, Regina…” Emma breathed, now fighting the urge to reach out and comfort the woman. Regina smiled at her as if she was well aware that the thought Regina might still be dealing with this traumatic event had never crossed Emma’s mind. Emma looked away, confirming Regina’s assessment, and Regina huffed, shaking her head lightly.

“It’s alright,” Regina spoke, cold resignation in her voice. “It was just a nightmare.” She added and stood. Regina left the dark bathroom in three resolute strides, leaving Emma to absorb the abrupt end to the conversation. Emma sunk her heads into her hands to work out her frustration. This whole whatever-the-hell it was with Regina was such a fucking rollercoaster sometimes. Who was she kidding? It was a rollercoaster all the fucking time. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, and released it. With a groan, she stood and sauntered into the other room, finding Regina dressing herself in black yoga-type pants and a simple sweater.

“You’re not coming back to bed?” Emma asked, and Regina fixed her with a glare. Emma set her jaw, unable to ward off the frustration threatening her patience. She knew she should be supportive of Regina right now, but Emma wasn’t in the habit of being supportive. 

They looked at each other a few quiet moments before Regina consciously relaxing her posture and stepped into Emma’s space. She tentatively reached out to push back Emma’s hair from her face and then linked her hands behind Emma’s neck. It took a moment for her to speak, but when she did, her voice was a lot warmer, and a little voice in the back of Emma’s head called her a coward for once again forcing Regina to swallow her emotions and reach out to Emma—literally.

“I’m sorry for being difficult.” Regina spoke lightly before pressing her lips to Emma’s, and Emma realized how hard letting down her walls right now must have been for Regina. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to do it had the roles been reversed, and Regina’s walls were easily ten times as high and thick as Emma’s. Unruffling her own feathers, Emma took a soft hold on Regina’s hips, running her thumbs over the soft skin of her lower belly. She kissed her back lightly and then pulled her closer for an actual hug, holding her for a few moments.

“Would you like me to join you?” She asked into dark hair, wanting to at least make some sort of sacrifice in this situation. “We could talk?” She added, and meant it. She would gladly sacrifice a few hours of sleep if it helped Regina. Regina sighed and pulled back, shaking her head lightly. 

“No, go back to bed. Sleep some more. It’s barely 5 AM and you need your beauty sleep.” Regina smirked at Emma’s glare. “I would like some time to think, and I think you have a shift at the sheriff’s station that starts at nine.” She added, more seriously but without the pain that had previously laced her voice.

In the end, Emma would have liked to be able to say she didn’t accept Regina’s proposal; that she had stayed up to offer her support to the obviously hurting woman, but she hadn’t. After another soft kiss, Emma crawled back into bed and let Regina walk out of the room without a second glance. She was asleep in minutes, although she did worry about Regina’s well-being.

When the alarm clock woke Emma three hours later, Emma realized she had pretty much slept the sleep of the dead, and it took a moment for the night’s events to come to her. Regina hadn’t returned to bed, and Emma was a little worried. She crawled out of bed as soon as her groggy mind and uncooperative body allowed her to and opened the door to the bedroom a little, listening for sounds on the floor below. Thankfully, she could hear the voices of both Regina and their son, as well as the tell-tale sounds of breakfast. The smell of coffee ad breakfast food hung heavily in the air. It seemed as if the daylight had restored a sense of normalcy to the Mills residence. 

Emma took a hot shower, brushed her teeth, dressed—and once more reminded herself to stash some clothes at Regina’s house—and descended the stairs to find her son wolfing down French toast fresh from the pan, and talking animatedly between bites. Regina was laughing at his words and flipping toast in the mean time, hands reaching out to the coffee pot and the already prepared cup when she spotted Emma. With a soft smile that did nothing to hide the fatigue on Regina’s features, she handed the filled cup to Emma who took it gratefully. 

Slipping into one of the seats in the kitchen after kissing her son on the crown of his head, Emma wrapped both hands around the mug and tried to catch up with the conversation, which seemed to consist of Operation Butterfly plans, school projects and a play date with a certain blonde. Emma joined in after her first cup of coffee, her mind taking that long to shake off its sluggishness. Besides, she liked observing Regina in her natural habitat—not so much the kitchen, but interacting with Henry, obviously. 

After offering Emma some French toast as well—which Emma waved off, breakfast being the only meal of the day one should not wake her for—she made a batch for herself and set the pan away, leaving the entire house smelling like cinnamon and Henry grinning like a fool. Eating delicately, Regina focused on the conversation between her and Henry, but glanced over to Emma once and again, meeting her eyes for a moment before focusing back on Henry.

Emma tried to assess how Regina was doing, but she found it hard to do so in the face of Regina’s ‘mother’-mode; that was the hardest one to read. Emma had the ‘Evil Queen’ down pat, and she could read Regina’s ‘Mayor’-mode as well, but ‘mother’-mode was different; it was the closest Regina got to honesty without giving anything of herself away. ‘Mother’-mode was constructed entirely out of love for Henry and with no ulterior motive, Emma had trouble looking past the outer shell of the multi-facetted woman. 

Glancing at the clock, she cursed into her mug, getting a sharp ‘Miss Swan!’ from Regina for doing so, glancing at their son. Henry smirked his mother’s smirk and Emma apologized as she jumped up, put the mug down and ran up to the bedroom to find her boots. She was so late! Saturday shifts were usually David’s but with the anniversary thing, Emma had kindheartedly offered to take the shift for him. Bounding back down, she called out for her son.

“Henry! D’you need a ride to Wendy’s?” She asked, having gathered enough of the breakfast conversation to know Henry was seeing the girl he met in Neverland today. They had taken her back to Storybrooke with them and she was now living in a small house with her brothers—who had taken a bit of getting used to Wendy's young appearance, something that was also true the other way around. While their contact in Neverland had been brief, Henry had taken a liking to Wendy, and she to him, despite being—oh, a hundred years his senior.

“Yes!” Henry answered and rushed off for his bag. While he was upstairs, Emma seized the moment to touch bases with Regina, who met her in the hallway. Without her son there, it was clear the night’s events had left their mark on Regina. Fatigue plagued her eyes and even her posture was different. Seeing her in anything but the formal outfits Emma was so used to also didn’t help matters any.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk,” Emma started redundantly as she let Regina zip up her jacket while she threw her hair in a messy ponytail. Normally Emma hated being fussed over, but she kind of liked it when Regina did it. If they had been in a better place, she would have told her so.

“We did not.” Regina agreed with a light smirk as she ran her hand down over the zipper of her jacket and then stepped away to check if Emma had forgotten anything. Emma hadn’t, she was quite sure. She had left her gun at the station and her badge was with her key of the tale near the door. She would grab those in a moment.

“How are you holding up?” Emma asked emphatically, calming her racing mind and pulling Regina into her, not wanting to leave without at least a moment of intimacy between them.

“Not too marvelously, but I am hanging in there.” Regina answered truthfully, and Emma pulled her in for a hug, infinitely grateful for Regina’s honesty and trust. Emma wouldn’t have had time to pull any information out of the dark haired woman, so if she had just stuck with ‘I’m fine’, there would have been nothing Emma could have done about it. 

“Take it easy today, okay? Go back to bed for a bit?” Emma murmured in Regina’s hair and Regina pulled her a little closer. She held the dark haired woman for a bit, her hand on the back of her head and in the small of her back. She wanted to show Regina she was there—could be there—even if she hadn’t really been there last night… something she resented herself for in the light of day. 

“Could you… call me? Sometime today…? I know you can’t come by but I’d like to hear your voice.” Regina requested and Emma’s heart swelled and broke at the same time. Of course she would; it was the least she could do and truth be told, she would like to speak to Regina as well.

“Yeah, totally. And if you need me, just call, okay?” She responded and pulled back for a quick kiss. 

“I will.” Regina promised, but Emma doubted she would. There was nothing to be done about that now, unfortunately, so she simply squeezed Regina’s hand before letting her go as Henry rushed down the stairs. Regina’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at her son’s behavior but let it go as Henry threw himself into her arms for a sloppy hug.

“Bye mom! I’ll call you after dinner.” He said as a matter of goodbye and headed to the door as Emma planted one last kiss on his mother’s lips. 

“Me too,” She promised and with that, they were out the door, Regina waving them off until they left her sight. Once in the car, Henry was still catching his breath when Emma broached the subject she was a little hesitant to broach.

“Hey Henry, can I ask you a question about your mom?” She started. He smirked at her.

“I don’t know if you can, but you may.” He corrected her—in just about the same words as his mother always did.

“Shut it, squirt.” She warned, actually somewhat embarrassed to be corrected by her eleven year old son. “But okay… I wanted to ask if your mom sometimes has nightmares.” Emma asked, her tone light but serious. When she glanced over the her son, Henry was looking at her with that look he got when he wasn’t sure she was ready to know something he did possess knowledge about.

“I just want to help her.” Emma added, hoping that was indeed what Henry was worried about—abusing the trust his mother had placed in him by confiding about her issues in Emma. Henry sighed and dragged his eyes back to the road.

“She used to have them all the time. When I was little, I mean. I used to sleep in her bed a lot and she always had one. I think she still has them… She had one last night, didn’t she? That’s why she was up so early?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, but she’s okay now.” Emma answered, trying to comfort both Henry and herself, hoping to God it was true. She was still processing the information Henry had provided her. It wasn’t odd to consider Regina had nightmares more often, but the frequency Henry was hinting at was worrying. 

“Do you know what she dreams about…?” Emma tried, once more getting that look and silence. Henry sighed as he came to a decision.

“Mostly about her time as the Evil Queen, I think. She never told me but you know… she did a lot of things to have nightmares about. I know that after her mom died, she had nightmares about that because she was shouting in her sleep when I went to the bathroom one night. I woke her up and she was crying. It was pretty bad.” He confessed.

Emma realized she was clenching her fingers around the steering wheel entirely too tightly and released them. The knowledge Regina had been hurting so much, and for so long, not only made her heart cry out for the woman, but made her angry. Especially the last few months, Regina had been forced to suffer through such an amount of pain, fear, and loss, it was a miracle she was functioning as well as she was at this point. And yes, all of these were consequences of her own doings, but Regina wasn’t the Evil Queen anymore, and she was in pain; in a lot of pain.

“Emma?” Henry’s small voice cut through her thought process. 

“Huh?” she asked him, glancing over to see him looking at her in a mixture of confusion and amusement. As she returned her eyes to the road, she found they were entirely not where they were supposed to be. In fact, where the heck were they?

“You missed our turn.” Henry deadpanned and Emma sighed. Making a U-turn, she headed back the way she came, still deep in thought about Regina, whom she was starting to see in a variety of new lights, and none made her feel any better about the situation.


	8. In The Hour of Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I can properly express how painful and difficult this chapter was to write, so please be gentle? There are hints of FairyQueen in this chapter, but don't get too hopeful or pissed off (depending on where you fall on the spectrum of support for that ship); this is a SwanQueen fic in the end. It was written to Röyksopp's 'What Else Is There?'.

The sound of silence was deafening. Regina stared into the empty hallway for long moments before urging her socked feet to move. Even that barely disturbed the silence in the building that had never been overly homey but was rapidly feeling more and more like an oversized jail cell by the minute. Regina grinned dejectedly as she remembered the jail cell Snow White had assigned her and had to admit that it had been more homely than her current residence. 

Steeling herself, Regina resigned to the fact that for the next ten hours, she would be alone. It would be another long day, and it had started already four hours earlier—four long hours in which Regina had mostly cleaned the house. Cleaning was her go-to relaxer when her mind was in turmoil. There was something about literally getting down on your hands and knees and scrubbing floors. It was something she would never have lowered herself to do as the Queen, but she had eventually found the benefits of it as the Mayor and now she was simply Regina, it had become a way to unwind and forget. It reminded her of simpler times, of times when she was just Regina Mills—even though even that view was romanticized, with her mother’s desire for her to overcome her humble background down the maternal side of the line. By that time, the woman had already been a powerful sorceress and even as a young girl, Regina had often been at the mercy of her magic—and was being groomed for the throne, although she had not known her mother’s true intentions at that time.

Regina felt odd; like she was floating. Ever since she had woken up this morning in a blind panic after reliving some of the worst hours of her life again and again, she felt something was wrong; not even cleaning had helped her unwind and get a grip on her mind. It was like a shadow looming over her, or a wave that was about to crash down on her. She felt fragile, and her mind was stuck in a loop, repeating event after event from her past.

As Regina manually washed the breakfast dishes, she couldn’t help but wonder at the marvel that were her feelings for Cora. The most intense emotion was still grief. She had hated her mother throughout the years, but she had still been her mother. And her mother was dead; she had gotten her heart back and for a split second, there had been a chance they would have their happy ending. For a few seconds, she had hope of finally having the mother she never had. Then Snow White had once more destroyed her chance at happiness. The bitterness she felt at that thought was sickening.

Regina gasped as last night’s wineglass snapped in her hand after she applied too much pressure to its fragile form, and one of the larger fragments cut her skin. She dropped it in the dish water and clamped down on the wound. The oppressive darkness and anger that plagued her soul, her heart, and her mind threatened to overtake her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest—quick and irregular, as it had started to do sometimes since the torture session—and stumbled back. As if awoken by the pain in her hand, a shooting pain seared through her chest, and suddenly Regina couldn’t breathe. Dizzy, she lowered herself to the ground as a preemptive measure. Her vision tunneled as her heart felt on the verge of giving out. 

What was happening to her? 

Cradling her injured hand, Regina tried to get her breathing under control, tried to lower her heart rate, tried to choke back her emotions but to no avail. It only got worse, and Regina thought this may finally be the end for her. Scared, Regina did the only thing she could thing to do in her time of greatest need: she waited. Alone.

And eventually it passed.

By the time it did, she was covered in blood, sweating profusely, and felt bone tired. Her muscles had cramped up and she was cold from lying on the kitchen floor for what felt like hours. Regina felt none of it, though. Her body felt numb—distant—and she could only focus on her heart settling slowly in her chest, on her breathing returning to normal, on her vision that finally returned. She cried over still being alive.

Terrified, she lay and waited, clutching her hand to her chest. Regina’s mind cleared enough to realize she had just had her first ever full-on panic attack. She’d had minor ones, especially connected to her nightmares, but this had been something different—something far worse. She could still summon the memories of the crushing despair she had felt, of the fear of dying—of the way her body betrayed her in the face of her emotions. Zero Hour had released something in her, being with Emma had released something in her—her walls were so fragile, the pain so great, her guilt so overwhelming… No matter what she had experienced before, back then she had been able to suppress it. Now, her emotions were too close to the surface and there was no stopping them.

Regina finally managed two things: for one, she managed to lift her head so she could check the time, and was shocked to find it was a little past noon. Secondly, she managed to fish her cell phone from her pocket and unlock it. She went through her phonebook and scanned the numbers. Every single name brought back feelings of pain, betrayal and guilt. Her eyes lingered on certain names longer: Kathryn, for example, who she honestly considered calling. Then, memories of setting up her kidnapping came to her and she moved on. 

She considered calling Emma, but she couldn’t. Not now, not like this. The endless loop in her mind had solidified the fears in Regina’s mind that she harbored when it came to the woman—and the anger she still felt towards her. All the hurtful things Emma had shouted at her in their worst moments were burned in Regina’s mind—repeating over and over—and Regina couldn’t cut them off. She feared what meeting Emma now would mean for their future, because she wasn’t sure she would be able to hold back if she attempted to talk to her now; despite what she felt for the blonde haired sheriff. There were so many things she wanted to scream at Emma—about Henry, about Snow, about Emma’s past transgressions, about Hook and Neal—coupled with the fears about the influence she had unwillingly had over Emma’s life—forcing her parents to give her up, thus making her grow up in foster care, leading to a life where she had to give up her son—and the insecurities she still fostered about her past life and how they might influence Emma’s views of her made it impossible to call Emma for help.

She thought about calling Archie—the man had helped her in the past, but he had also betrayed her over and over again—her confidence, her life, her secrets—she didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust her. What she needed to talk about, or at least let out, could never be said in his presence. Not while she was so vulnerable.

And so, she called the only person she could think of to call: she called Tinker Bell, who had joined them on the Jolly Roger towards Storybrooke and who was steadily making a life for herself in the small town. Regina had kept an eye on the blonde haired ex-fairy whom she owed more to than she was willing to admit; Tinker Bell was doing well, as far as she could tell. In a sort of package deal, Tink had been gifted a house, some starting funds, and was adapting to this new life like she had always belonged here. Regina suspected she was just happy to be off of that godforsaken island once and for all, and finally in a change of clothing. Apparently, Tinker Bell was a bit of a shopaholic. 

Tink’s chipper voice reached Regina’s ears after the third ring, and suddenly, Regina was at a loss for words. What could she say? Was there any guarantee that Tink wouldn’t just laugh at her and hang up? The two hadn’t communicated at all in the month since Neverland, and Regina had no idea where things between them stood. They had hashed out the worst of it on the island, but Regina knew there was still a lot of history there that needed to be resolved. The friendship that had bloomed between the two had been forever destroyed—both women had changed too much, and Regina had caused too much pain and bitterness—but Neverland had left her hopeful for a second chance with the ex-fairy who had once tried to point out her True Love, but had been disappointed by the results.

“Hello?” Tink repeated into the device. A pause and then: “Regina?” Tink’s voice was a mixture of surprise, hope, and annoyance and Regina cleared her throat.

“Tinker Bell.” She rasped and felt tears threatening to overtake her. She choked them back at the last moment but was unable to say more. She was hurting, ashamed and most of all, she felt incredibly depressed.

“Regina, what’s wrong?” Tink spoke, and now there was only worry in the accented voice. 

“I need help.” Regina finally whispered, defeated by her own emotions. Her pride broken, her fears giving way in light of recent events that had been even scarier, Regina gave in to the very human need to reach out to someone who had at least known her before all of this. Tinker Bell had already seen her vulnerable and had seen the good. Perhaps she would be willing to look for it again.

“Where are you?” The voice on the other side of the line said without a beat, and Regina couldn’t choke back a sob of relief. 

“At home.” She managed as her uninjured hand shot up to cover her mouth and stop more of the horribly humiliating sounds to escape her.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Tink promised and the line went dead. Regina dropped the phone onto the cold tile work of the kitchen floor and finally gave into her tears. She cried until she finally—finally—managed to get a grip on her emotions. At that time, she wrestled herself into a seated position and waited for the world to stop spinning before she pushed herself up onto her feet. She gripped the kitchen counter roughly as she stood shakily, waiting for her strength to return. She had a few moments to look at the floor and it took a while to register that the blood that had been smeared on it belonged to her. She lifted her hand at the memory and saw the wound was severe but had mostly stopped bleeding. She was too tired to magic it away and simply pressed her hand to her shoulder to minimize the flow of blood as she made her way to the front door. She was wobbly on her feet in a combination of blood loss and exhaustion but managed to descend the steps, regardless. She opened the door to a crack and stepped back. She could wait on the steps. The steps were just fine. She ignored that she didn’t think she could move anywhere else even if she wanted to.

Regina didn’t have to wait long on the uncomfortable steps; the sound of Tinker Bell’s newly purchased Harley Davidson pulling up to the driveway greeted her a few moments after she had sat down. The sound both comforted Regina and made her heart pound. She could still close the door, not answer. She could still back out of letting anyone see her like this. Yet, if she did, she knew she would have to go on alone, she knew she would choke on her thoughts, her emotions. If she didn’t trust now—if she didn’t open up to a potential friend—she would lose everything, including Henry and Emma, because she knew where this road led: destruction—hers and everyone who stood in her way. She had promised Henry she would stay, that she would do better, and so she left the door the way it was. By the time a soft knock fell on the wood of the door, Regina was crying again.

Tinker Bell’s head poked inside and eyes widened as they caught sight of Regina sitting on the steps. Regina mused she must look like quite the sight. Even in the black clothing, the blood was visible on her skin, and her hair was most likely a mess. She smoothed it down with her good hand subconsciously as Tinker Bell observed her in pure shock and worry.

“Regina?” Tink asked incredulously as she stepped inside fully and shut the door. Stepping over, she scanned Regina, looking for the source of the blood and any other injuries. Regina smiled despite her emotional turmoil, her heart lifting at the worry she found in the petite blonde. Tinker Bell looked good, she mused. She had her hair straightened, and wore a tight fitting motorcycle outfit, the jacket of which was now unzipped and revealing a white T-shirt with a multitude of brightly colored patterns on it Regina was too tired to make sense of. Tink looked young again, far more care-free than in Neverland, more like her old self. 

Regina had never felt farther removed from her old self than in this moment, and never this old.

“Okay, let me see that…” Tink said softly, reaching for the hand Regina was still cradling. She took it from Regina’s shoulder and Regina marveled at the freshness Tink brought into her world. She could smell the outside world on her, a world she felt so cut off from—had been feeling so cut off from for weeks. She let Tinker Bell take her hands between her own small, warm, ones and examine the cut. She was grateful Tinker Bell didn’t ask what had happened. She wasn’t sure she could explain right now.

“Okay, that is going to need sutures or magic, and I can do neither of those, but if you have a first aid kit somewhere, I’ll clean and bandage it.” Tink offered and Regina nodded, basking in the warmth that came off of Tinker Bell’s hand. It was good to have human contact—she felt more human by association, not so much like the empty husk she had been reduced to after the panic attack. 

“It’s in the kitchen, under the sink.” She rasped and Tink let go of her hand. Regina marveled at the loss she felt at the simple gesture and was still considering that when Tink yelped from the kitchen. 

“By Merlin, what happened?!” She shrieked and Regina remembered the macabre scene in her kitchen. She knew, however, she couldn’t raise her voice to explain and simply waited for Tinker Bell to return with the first aid box. When Tink rounded her body again, Regina met her eyes and found the worry doubled—if not tripled.

The ex-fairy sat the box down and kneeled, taking Regina’s uninjured hand in her own in a comforting gesture of support. Regina started crying again. She was almost beyond her mortification over the event at this point, and decided to not fight her need for the simple contact Tink offered her in the moment. She needed simple now, uncomplicated, and Tinker Bell was the person closest to uncomplicated Regina could get right now.

“Honey, tell me what happened.” The ex-fairy prodded gently, rubbing her thumb over Regina’s hand and Regina sighed. How could she explain what had happened? She didn’t even know herself. All she knew was that it had all been too much suddenly, that the weight of her past deeds had finally caught up to her. That opening herself up to Emma and Henry—to the possibility of being loved—had shattered the walls she had so meticulously built for herself and that all she was now reduced to was a collection of pain and fear, and overwhelming guilt. How could she explain that the anger that had been her savior was turning into her undoing as she could no longer control it like she had been able to do in the past. That her anger was telling her to destroy everything and everyone who had ever hurt her, but that the thought of causing more pain—more terror—made her want to kill herself before she could actually go through with it? How could she express that to the woman who was looking at her with such genuine emotion that Regina just wanted to sink into her and forget?

“I had a… panic attack…” she eventually managed to whisper, fighting her emotions, her panic, the rising tide of darkness that once more threatened to sweep her off of her feet and cause her to do things she would forever regret. Tinker Bell was examining her, her eyes drilling onto Regina’s to divine the deeper meaning behind the words. Regina tried to look away but Tinker Bell was not having it. Eventually, Regina allowed her to look, feeling as exposed as a nerve. She wouldn’t last much longer before something had to give in her.

“Regina, honey, you need to calm down, okay?” Tinker Bell whispered, reacting to the obvious rise of renewed panic in Regina. “You are going to be just fine.” She added with a gentle smile meant to bolster the dark haired woman, but instead, the words left her feeling empty.

“I don’t think I will be.” She choked out, speaking one of her biggest fears, and before she realized what was happening, Regina found herself in the light but comforting embrace of the petite blonde who had offered to be her friend once, and offered the same to her now, willing to step over the part in-between. 

Regina’s body betrayed her: she didn’t stiffen, didn’t resist. She just sank into Tinker Bell and held her tightly as she sobbed, her body shaking with pent up emotion. Tink smelled like leather and trees. Like magic and petrol. She was warm and soft, and not at all like Emma, despite the somewhat similar look—especially in the motorcycle jacket. Her hands drew comforting patterns on Regina’s back, and her eternally cheerful voice was telling her to just let go and cry. That she was safe and that no one could hurt her now. Tink was saying all the right things and doing so out of genuine affection—of that Regina was sure. This wasn’t a ploy; Tinker Bell wasn’t going to use this against her. She was inherently good, and Regina felt like she was tainting her with her darkness.

It felt like hours until the shaking stopped. Tink hadn’t moved away, hadn’t tried to stop her. She had just whispered encouragements, had run her hands through her hair and over her back, had held her close and had let Regina cry without judgment of her. And Regina felt better. She was still shaking, still over-emotional, but her anger had faded in the light of so much unshakable good. Tinker Bell’s acceptance of her pain—without downplaying it, without reminding her of her role in it—had strengthened Regina’s ability to channel it into something else—tears, solutions, processing. She managed not to give in to the temptation to burn bridges—mostly those with Emma. By the time Tink eventually let her go, she was exhausted but smiling lightly.

Tink gave her a sympathetic smile in return and squeezed her good hand before maneuvering herself into a more comfortable position with a groan. They sat close together on the steps in the hallway while Tink took her hand again and begun to clean it with a swab from the kit. Regina hissed at the pain and marveled in her ability to feel it at all. The numbness was lifting and with it, Regina’s heart soared again. She was getting through it—this time without needing to level a town or wreck a good thing. Tinker Bell’s body pressed against hers was comforting and in a move reminiscent of the old Regina Tinker Bell had known, Regina laid her tired head on the ex-fairy’s shoulder. The confusing desire in her gave way to genuine affection.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Tink asked and Regina hummed, watching Tinker Bell work on the hand that was in her lap. She teased out small shards of glass as she washed the cut clean with a saline solution and didn’t care at all about the way her pants were slowly becoming drenched. Regina felt warm and accepted and slowly, she begun to talk.

“I had a nightmare last night. “ She confessed. “Before we came to Neverland, I was briefly held captive by someone from my past whom I had hurt very much. He strapped me down to a table, stuck electrodes to my body, and shocked me until I told him what he wanted to know—something that took many, many, shocks as I did not want to tell him. I only told him because I feared he would kill me and I knew that if he took my life, I would not be able to keep him from destroying Storybrooke.” She added and when Tink remained encouragingly silent, she continued. Her voice was soft and fragile, but she didn’t mind talking.

“I was eventually rescued by Mary Margaret and David and taken to their home.” Regina paused at the memory, feeling the mixture of hate and love for her pixie-haired stepdaughter bubble up inside her once more. Her interactions with Snow always caused her so much emotional turmoil; it hurt to even think about them. Gathering her thought, she wondered about what she would tell Tinker Bell next. There was so much to tell and Tinker Bell was working deliberately slowly on her hand, taking her time in cleaning the entire plain of it before waiting for the surface to dry, just so Regina had all the time she needed. Now Regina had her feelings under control, there was really only one thing she really wanted to say.

“I found love again.” She eventually whispered, so softly the reaction from the blonde was not instantaneous but only happened after she had time to piece the message together.

“You did?” Tinker Bell asked and there was genuine happiness to her voice. 

“She has a Ville de Lyon flower tattooed on her wrist.” Regina added and Tink froze, the obvious similarities to the man with the lion tattoo not lost on her.

“You. Are. Kidding?” She squealed and moved so Regina had to lift her head up off of her shoulder, which she did with a groan. Sparkling eyes met hers and the smile she received was infectious. Regina blushed and finally brought a hint of color back to her ashen skin. She searched Tinker Bell’s eyes for any sign of negativity but found none. Regina figured it was partly that Tinker Bell had been right—in a matter of speaking, anyway—but she hoped it was more because in this plot twist, Regina could find the redemption she so desperately needed.

“Who is it?” The ex-fairy asked conspiratorially, and Regina paused a moment. Could she tell Tinker Bell? Would she keep her secret? Regina was always fearful of that—of being betrayed—a character trait she had sustained at the hands of Snow White. She reached for Tinker Bell’s hands and held them lightly, ignoring the throbbing pain in her right hand.

“Only Henry knows, and he is sworn to secrecy. Tinker Bell, please. I want to tell you, but you have to pr—” She paused. Tinker Bell didn’t have to do a damn thing. “I-I need to ask you, beg of you, not to tell anyone. Please?” Regina continued, and in doing so, felt so much more connected to the Regina Tinker Bell had known that another part of the darkness clouding her heart drained from her, especially when Tinker Bell nodded.

“I won’t betray your trust.” She said solemnly, and while Regina felt the stab to her heart—she had done so to the ex-fairy, after all—she could see Tinker Bell wasn’t rubbing that in. She was simply making a promise to someone she had met long ago, and with whom she had hit it off right away, anxious to help Regina find true happiness. 

“Emma Swan.” Regina admitted after a deep breath. The shock on Tinker Bell’s face was hilarious to behold. She could see Tinker Bell’s mind racing—undoubtedly trying to remember their interactions in Neverland and eventually, her sparkling eyes settled on Regina again. 

“How did I miss that?” She asked, amused and shocked.

“We weren’t… together then; not really. I’m not even sure if we are now, but there is love there. We’ve even told each other so.” Regina said, a genuine smile reaching her features and lighting her eyes. Tinker Bell squeezed her good hand in excitement as she practically bounced on the hardwood step and begged Regina to tell her more.

“It isn’t easy, but… we make it work, I think?” Regina said, a little unsure. “There is so much history we haven’t discussed and while we have told each other we forgive what happened, I think we both know you actually have to talk about things in order to forgive them properly—if you can. Emma… Emma would have grown up with her parents in the Kingdom if I hadn’t started a war. I might have never become the Evil Queen if Snow had kept my secret about Daniel, and if Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t taught my mother and me magic, everything would have been different.”

“…but without all of that, you wouldn’t have Henry, and you wouldn’t have Emma.” Tink said and Regina turned to her with bemusement. 

“You always see the positive, don’t you?” She asked and squeezed Tink’s hand. She hoped they could be friends again, that Tink would forgive her for all her misgivings and offer her a second chance to help her in the way Tinker Bell had always tried to help her. 

“I gave up on it for a while,” Tinker Bell admitted, but smiled when she continued. “It seems to be back now, though.” 

Regina answered her smile with one of her own. 

“Do you think you will be able to work it out with Emma? I have been hearing about what happened when I was in Neverland and it was quite a lot.” Tinker Bell continued and Regina found no judgment in the words.

“I hope so.” She answered genuinely. “We will have to actually talk about this at some point, and I have a lot to work on before we can even think about going public, but we are trying.” Regina was silent a moment and Tink gave her the space she needed, rubbing the back of Regina’s hand in a way that only evoked feelings of friendship in Regina now. 

“I’ve been opening myself up to the possibility of a happy ending. I am trying to let go of the anger and the hate, and all of the pain.” Regina admitted softly. “I think I underestimated how much I need… needed, maybe… those emotions to function. Without them, that spark of hope is so fragile, and the guilt so crippling.” Renewed tears came to Regina’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. 

“This morning, it overwhelmed me, crippled me, and suddenly I was on the ground with my hand bleeding and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but be scared and ashamed and guilt ridden…” The fragile pain in Regina’s voice caused Tinker Bell to offer her an encouraging but sad smile. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” She said and Regina had to close her eyes against a new wave of tears, caused by the sincerity of Tinker Bell’s words. She was so unaccustomed to kindness and acceptance—to others wishing her well—that even these small tokens caused her to flounder. 

“Thank you.” Regina whispered, trying to convey much more than those two simple words. Opening her eyes, she met Tinker Bell’s and watched her nod in understanding. They sat together like that for a while, mirroring each other, legs touching, holding hands, simply adjusting to everything that had happened.

“Do you think you can heal yourself now?” Tink finally broke the silence and Regina nodded. She pulled her hands free and waved her uninjured hand over the injured one. She tried to tap into her usual source of power and found it dormant, lulled to sleep by today’s events. There was an emotion wide awake in her, though; several actually. Drawing on her love for Emma and Henry, on the hope of a happy ending, and the kindness of friendship, she effortlessly healed herself. The symbolism wasn’t lost on her, and Tinker Bell—who had been watching her—smiled back when Regina smiled at her.

“Good?” Tinker Bell asked and Regina nodded. 

“Very.” She spoke meaningfully and Tink nodded with a smile. Pursing her lips, Tink observed the ex-Queen and sighed.

“I think you need a hot bath, some food, and a lot of sleep.” She commented, and the thought of all three made Regina aware of how dirty, hungry, and tired she was. Still, this whole exchange must have at least taken a couple of hours and Henry would be calling to be picked up in a few hours. She didn’t really have time for any of this, although just the thought of doing anything but sleeping was almost painful to her.

“I need to pick up Henry soon, and I—“ Regina started, but Tinker Bell cut her off.

“I’ll call Emma, explain the situation. She can take Henry for the night. I’ll stay here and take care of you until you have recovered some.” She suggested, and Regina let her mind go over that. Emma wasn’t going to like it, she feared. In fact, Emma was probably going to be pissed she hadn’t called her in her time of need. Just the thought of having to explain her reasons for calling Tinker Bell over her was taking the spirit out of Regina. She could sense in Neverland that Emma was jealous—or at least suspicious—of Tinker Bell and the past she shared with Regina, so having her stay at the house while Emma was at her own house with Henry would be something the blonde was never going to agree to. There was no way this was going to work.

“Emma won’t go for that.” Regina said somewhat miserably, and Tinker Bell huffed.

“Please, give me some credit.” The ex-fairy sassed, waving off Regina’s concerns. She stood and held her hands out for Regina to reach for them and pull herself up. It took some doing, but Regina eventually found herself upright. 

“Give me her number and take a bath. I’ll bring you something to eat after I clean up down here and change into something a bit more relaxed. Then, you are going to put on some PJ’s and get into bed where you will remain until you wake up on your own. No, no arguments, go. I’ll handle Emma and your phone for the rest of the night. Go!” Tinker Bell said and there was no fighting the petite blonde, even if Regina had wanted to. She was simply too tired and the offer sounded too good. She waited until Tinker Bell had pulled out her phone and gave her the number she knew by heart—something Tinker Bell did not fail to notice. 

Tink followed her upstairs to make sure she didn’t take a tumble off of them, turned on the faucet of the tub while Regina watched and then left to make her call some place Regina was not. Sighing at the inevitable fallout of her decision, Regina accepted the situation at hand and pulled the sweater over her head. She stripped down and added some soap to the water before lowering herself in with an indulgent moan. Whatever was going to happen would happen anyway; she’d best make the most out of the situation until it did… and the bath was a wonderful start.


	9. The Education Of Miss Emma Swan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 3x09. Written to Zeigeist's 'Dawn//Night'. Also, yes, it was time for a little bit of comic relief in the face of all the angst that has been going around in this fic. I hope you like it. Speaking of which: I would love to hear what you loyal readers think of the story so far. Am I on the right track? Let me know :)

As her phone rang, Emma swerved to the side of the road, hugging the curb as she multitasked getting her car into ‘park’ and finding her phone on the passenger seat. She scanned the number and drew a blank, so she opened with her professional ‘Sheriff Swan’.

“Emma, hey, it’s Tinker Bell.” 

Emma took a steadying breath as she let her head fall back into the headrest of the driver’s seat of the cop car she had been fruitlessly driving about town for the last three hours. Emma was quite sure it was no secret she did not like the ex-fairy on the other end of the line, and it was not just because Regina and the blonde pixie had some still-unexplained history together that Emma desperately wanted to find out about but was quite sure was impolite to ask after. Tink was an even bigger hothead than she was and she had disliked the woman from moment one. For her to call meant this day had officially reached a new low.

“Tink,” She said with fake enthusiasm. “What can I do for you today?” She added. She could practically hear Tinker Bell roll her eyes at her.

“Nothing, actually, that’s why I called.” Tink answered and Emma raised her eyebrow subconsciously. 

“Yeah, that makes no sense at all.” She answered, already done with this conversation.

“Oh, it does, trust me.” Tinker Bell answered cockily, and Emma sighed. 

“Would you like to get to the point?” Emma tried, and Tink hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Regina called me a few hours back, it seems she has had some sort of panic attack.” Tink answered airily. The blood ran cold in Emma’s veins, dread spreading through her at the mention of Regina’s suffering. She squeezed the phone between her cheek and shoulder and forced the car into ‘drive’ again, pulling into traffic with a glance in her mirrors. She plotted the fastest course for Regina’s mansion.

“What happened?” She asked through clenched teeth as her worry mixed with annoyance; it suddenly dawned on her that Regina had called Tinker Bell and not her in her time of need, and that did not sit well with Emma at all. Jealously was an ugly monster that had driven Emma to do a lot of stupid things in her time and she was well acquainted with its treacherous whispers. Still, she didn’t halt her jealousy from influencing her as she maneuvered through traffic.

“She had a panic attack. Really, sheriff, I thought you were paying attention.” Tink threw back at her and Emma gritted her teeth as she seethed. 

“Tink, I swear to God…” Emma growled out and Tink grinned on the other end of the line.

“Oh, relax. Regina is fine. She’s getting ready for bed. Look, I didn’t call to pick a fight, I called because Regina needs your help. She needs to sleep—not just a few hours, at least into the morning. In order to do that, it would be swell if you could pick up Henry and keep him with you tonight.” Tink said and Emma rolled her eyes.

“Sure, I’ll pick up Henry, but we are staying at the house tonight. We should be with Regina—I’m on my way now, you don’t need to—” Emma spit back angrily, narrowly avoiding running another red light.

“Not what I meant, Savior.” Tink deadpanned. “Regina needs to rest. That means no Henry trying to be quiet but blundering through the house, no butchy sheriff checking in on her every five minutes, and no playing house. If you would kindly get your head out of your ass long enough to realize that the best thing you can do right now is stay away, I’d be much obliged.” The blonde ex-fairy continued, and Emma’s eyes bulged.

“What the hell? Who the hell d—” Emma started, but Tinker Bell cut her off roughly.

“Emma! I know you are genetically burdened with a desire to do what you think is the right thing to do, but in case you missed the memo of past experiences: what you think is the right thing to do and what is actually the right thing to do are sometimes two completely different things. You storming over here in a jealous rage? That’s what you think is the right thing to do. The actual right thing to do? Give Regina some space.” Tink said, and although Emma would like to say there was venom in her voice, there really wasn’t. Tinker Bell was trying to get through to her and Emma begrudgingly let herself be shocked into listening. The ex-fairy, sensing she had gotten Emma’s attention, continued in a lot less standoffish manner.

“She told me about you two, said you went full-on L-word on each other and all…” Emma choked on a breath of air. Regina had told Tinker Bell details of their sex life—and the fact that they even had one? Emma’s mind flashed back to the girl on girl scenes in the series and sputtered. Sure, she may have watched a few episodes to get some ideas about what to do to Regina but she was quite sure she had mixed it up enough for that not to be too noticeable.

“I didn’t think she watched that…” Emma muttered. Tink, obviously confused, was as eloquent as Emma when forced into that state.

“Huh?”

“The L-Word,” Emma explained. “I just used that show for inspiration.” She added, unsure why she was even admitting that but damn sure she was going to defend herself against Tink’s accusation—true as it may be.

“What series?” Tink asked and Emma froze. 

“I was talking about, you know, love?” Tink tried, sounding horribly confused. Emma was mortified. 

“Love, yes, love. I meant that. Nevermind. What were we talking about?” Emma covered quickly, deciding to park before she killed someone. Her mind was so not on driving right now and this seemed exactly like the situation where she should be paying attention to what was said. Emma coughed emphatically as Tink remained silent.

“Okay… That was odd. Anyway, You and Regina, congratulations. Now, if you want to be a good girlfriend, let me take care of her, pick up your son, entertain him, tell him everything will be alright with his mom but that she needs to sleep and if you do all of that, I will send you text updates on how she’s doing. If she wakes up before Henry’s bedtime, I’ll even let her call him. How does that sound?”

"Like you are trying to butt into something you have no business butting into." Emma muttered angrily, still not okay with the fact Regina had called Tinker Bell and not her. Secretly she was a little relieved; she wasn't too good with crisis situations. They tended to kick her fight-or-flight reflexes into high gear and she obviously wasn't good at making clear choices then—last night's fiasco a testament to that.

"Emma..." Tink's voice was understanding and much more kindhearted than she had come across when beating Emma over the head with the truth like she was a baby seal. "What you have? I'm taking it's new, and Regina is a very complicated woman. She always was. I don't know why she called me and not you but I can take a wild stab at it: with all the history between you two, I don't think she wanted to add another memory of you two at your worst."

"Fair point." Emma agreed begrudgingly. God, she hated to admit this, but the pixie was right; the last thing Regina needed now was to keep up appearances in front of her son--and her, if Emma was completely honest. Whatever was happening between her and Regina—and Emma was _not_ comfortable with the term 'girlfriend'—they had a lot of emotional crap to work through. If and when they were going to do that, it would be better if they weren't on edge and coming off of a panic attack. No matter how well they related in the bedroom, and no matter the 'I love you's that had been exchanged, you didn't just erase 60+ years of history. Even just the last few months would be enough to keep them on their toes for a good while to come.

"Okay, fine." Emma eventually conceded. "I'll take Henry tonight and take him home to see his mom in the morning. But Tink, you'd better take care of her and..." Emma trailed off, having just been on the verge of saying something horribly embarrassing.

"Let me guess; hands off of your woman? Don't worry, Savior, it's not like that." Tink answered her with a playful grin. Emma groaned, absolutely busted.

"That was not what I was going to say." She defended herself as she turned red.

"Sure it wasn't." Tinker Bell mocked and Emma knew better than to open her mouth again. "I'll call in a few hours." Tink added, letting her off the hook. Emma sighed and nodded, realizing the ex-fairy wouldn't be able to see.

"Alright, thanks Tink." Emma said softly. "Could you tell her..." Emma wasn't sure how to finish that. Again, Tink came to her rescue.

"I will." She promised with genuine warmth. Emma smiled.

"Thanks... for everything." Emma answered her genuinely, and she could hear Tink smile as she replied.

"No problem, Savior." 

The line went dead and Emma slid the phone from her ear, staring at it a moment before calling Henry's emergency phone to inform him of the change of plans. He was worried, naturally, but he had seen how tired his mom had been and Emma had sort of explained the situation by going around the actual panic attack. She'd told him Regina needed some time to catch up on sleep and he was getting an impromptu sleepover. He was alright with that; he liked seeing Mary Margaret and David again, and it had been a while since he had stayed with Emma for the night. Afterwards she called Mary Margaret, who was thrilled to hear about the sleep-over and even expressed a sliver of worry for Regina. Emma knew that the part of Mary Margret that was still a young princess under Regina’s care still cared for the ex-Queen, but so much had happened since then that even Mary Margaret’s eternal optimism wasn’t enough to look beyond Regina’s obvious shortcomings.

Once all the practicalities were taken care of, Emma just sat for a while, musing about what had just transpired. It seems Regina had managed to hide—either consciously or subconsciously—just how bad she was doing this morning. Emma had realized Regina wasn’t doing well—after Zero Hour, it was impossible to ignore—but Regina had always managed to function so well, no matter the situation. Her father had credited Emma with the success of operation Save Henry, but they both knew Regina had been the one to do the actual leading and saving—she’d just been gracious enough to let Emma take the credit. As she thought it, Emma knew it wasn’t true; Regina hadn’t ‘let’ them do anything: the glory had simply gone to Emma, and Regina had been left out in the cold, again. As always. Yet, Regina’s primary reason for joining in the first place had been Henry—like it always was—and Emma could feel her own ball of guilt become heavier in her gut. 

She could understand why Regina hadn’t called her: there was enough bad blood in their past to drown the town. Emma had known she was behaving irrational even when she was doing it after rolling into town and turning Regina’s entire life up-side-down. _She_ had been the one to give up Henry eleven years ago, _she_ had gotten herself trapped in jail, and _she_ had been the one to sign away any right to Henry. She was just a woman who shared his genes; on paper she was no longer anything to Henry. And so, she had fought for him—because she could.

Storybrooke had its own set of laws. She shook her head as she realized that Emma being elected sheriff must have been the town’s ultimate betrayal in Regina’s eyes. Not only had the citizens chosen Regina’s opponent after she had taken care of the town for twenty-eight years, but it must have been a sign that her world was about to crash down; the safety she had created was about to end. To add insult to injury, Emma being elected sheriff was the symbolic representation of the law as it influenced Regina: anywhere else in this world, Henry’s adoption papers would have been enough to ensure Regina’s happy ending with her son, but here? Here they meant nothing because the questionably good in this town _were_ the law, and they were not on Regina’s side, even though they should have been.

Tinker Bell had been right: the Charmings—herself and her son included—should have been the embodiment of good, but still, Mary Margaret would have left Emma again if the alternative had been to leave David in Neverland. They had still taken everything but her life from Regina, and they had made sure that no matter what, Regina could never win. Regina would never do or be ‘good’ enough. Emma realized that her hands had balled into fists, one still clutching the phone. She was angry; livid, even.

Regina had caused a lot of pain and hurt over the years, and it should not be forgotten. Yet, for a family who preached happy endings and second chances, Regina’s had been long overdue. Seething, Emma had to admit that she had played a larger role in Regina’s destruction than she had ever been willing to acknowledge, and with her renewed understanding and feelings for the woman, that pain was almost unbearable. She had taken everything from Regina; she had been the catalyst for Regina’s downfall… and yet, Regina had eventually stepped aside to let her be a mother for Henry. She had allowed Emma to labeling him ‘their’ son, despite having no claim to him whatsoever. She hadn’t rebelled when Emma got to take the glory for his rescue, choosing instead to spend a quiet moment with him to show her love and leave it at that. Emma’s only redeeming quality at this point was that, after coming back from Neverland and returning her son to his own body, she had returned Henry to Regina. 

Emma’s hot fury turned to ice as she realized that—despite everything Emma had put her through—Regina had still allowed the blonde in. She had opened first her body, then her heart for Emma, and Emma wondered why. Perhaps, when anger had not worked, she had simply switched tactics? But if that was the case, Regina should have spoken up after that first time when Emma had cut down the apple tree, and exposed her. Perhaps Regina had realized that pleasing Emma would please Henry in some way, because it might halt Emma from poisoning him against her? Well, that hadn’t exactly turned out well, now had it? Emma wondered if Regina’s motivations had perhaps been more personal than vengeful… perhaps she had seen in Emma a chance to feel again, a chance to get something no one had been manipulated into by forceful heart removal. Perhaps Regina had just wanted to feel loved, and the woman who was tied to her son by blood had been the only viable candidate for the role.

Perhaps they were simple inevitable. 

For her part, Regina had crawled under Emma’s skin the second they met. Her intense eyes, her severity, and her passion coupled with the love she emoted towards her son… She had refused to admit it then but was able to do so now, in the silence and privacy of her car: Emma had started falling for Regina the moment she met her, and she hadn’t fought their sexual attraction because she was a very willing participant. It had been honest exchanges of need and desire, and they had taught her much about the brunette ex-mayor. On the other hand, her frustration at Regina’s standoffishness and fear of losing her son now she had found him again had caused her to resist everything but those basic carnal needs… and cause a lot of pain in the mean time.

She would never forget the look of pure relief Regina had shot her in the storage closet at the hospital when Emma had confronted her about the curse. Had Regina been feeling guilty for being so intimate with Emma and not coming clean about something so fundamental? Or had she perhaps simply been relieved at the possibility of it all ending? How exhausting must it have been to carry this knowledge around with her for twenty-eight years, seeing the same pod-people again and again and nothing ever changing; no shot at redemption beyond doing her job to the best of her abilities?

And then that one shot at redemption had been ripped away from her during the sheriff elections, where all her hard work had ended in betrayal from those Emma and her fellow Charmings had poisoned against her. Regina had been a good mayor, and even though everyone in town had reelected her meekly every term, Emma was quite sure her job had meant a lot more to her than keeping up appearances. She had come to care for Storybrooke, and by extension those in it.

Having Henry must have opened Regina’s heart to the possibility of love and brought with it a desire for redemption in the face of all she had done. Perhaps not right away, but coupled with that look of relief that had always puzzled Emma, Emma was now sure that Regina had wanted the curse to end, because moving forward—no matter how terrifying—must have sounded better than staying stuck in limbo.

Emma threw the phone into the passenger seat and pulled back into traffic with her jaw set; she had to get back to work, despite still wanting to rush over to Regina. Especially in the light of recent revelations, it was hard to be apart. They would have a long sit-down soon to talk about some of this, but for now Tinker Bell was right: Regina needed to rest and Emma had a shift to get back to. She could feel something bubbling up in her gut though, an even stronger need to right the wrongs committed by and against Regina. She was determined to give Regina her happy ending, and that happy ending was going to include her, their son, and civility from the citizens of Storybrooke—at the very least. Regina had saved their son in Neverland, she had allowed the curse to come to an end, she had saved the town in far more heroic ways than Emma had ever done and now it was Emma’s turn to truly be the Savior. It was her title, after all, and while she had never really felt like a savior, she would try her damned hardest to be one for Regina.


	10. Long Live The Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cough* a few things before we get started: I had forgotten all about Wendy's brothers being in Storybrooke. The situation is now remedied in chapter seven, giving the three of them a little house in the town. Please mind the updated tags that came with this chapter. It was written to Flight Facilities' 'Crave You' in the Adventure Club Dubstep Remix and Foxes' 'Youth' in the regular Adventure Club Remix; I'm sure you can guess where the music changes. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Emma returned to the station for the last part of her shift, intend on getting some much needed and oft postponed paperwork done. By the time she sat down behind her desk and observed the pile of work in front of her, however, good intentions left her. This really was the part of her work she hated. When she had taken the job it had been because of three things: it gave her a reason to stay near Henry, it pissed Regina off, and Law & Order’s Mariska Hargitay who was the epitome of a hot cop and Emma didn’t mind the boost to her ego that came with the mental comparison. 

Emma had figured out quickly that there were very few things less glamorous than the position of (deputy) sheriff, and that she would be spending at least forty percent of her time—if not more—writing out rapports about nothing. She had thought putting Mary Margaret in charge would have lessened her workload, but like Regina, Emma’s mother demanded detailed accounts of her work and refused to let her get away with anything half-assed. With that thought in mind, Emma reached for the first of the files and set to work, her mind still mostly occupied with Regina.

Tinker Bell had indeed sent her a text not long ago, saying Regina was in bed and relieved to hear Emma wasn’t mad. Emma had smiled at that and had thanked Tink before she could write anything embarrassingly lovey-dovey. Now, though, her worry for Regina and previous revelations were playing over and over inside her skull, driving Emma to distraction. Especially the thoughts about those early sexual encounters would not leave her. That first time, after the apple tree incident, had been quick and brutal. After an initial ‘what the hell?’ from being pinned by Regina, there hadn’t been any words exchanged until Regina had smoothed out the creases in her clothes and walked away, leaving Emma gasping for breath in the garden, utterly shocked at current events. Regina’s sharp ‘now get off of my lawn, Miss Swan.’ had been the only way Regina had even acknowledge her at all afterwards and it had left Emma angry—and horny. 

The feeling had built and built inside of her until she had stormed into Regina’s office five days later, slamming the door shut and yelling at Regina to explain herself. Instantly enraged, Regina had gotten up and had met her half way through the office, hissing at Emma to keep her voice down and to never, ever, barge into her office unannounced again. Emma had backhanded her then—not hard, but enough to make Regina’s head turn before darkened eyes had settled on her with such intensity, Emma’s fight or flight reflexes failed somewhere between them and settled on arousal. Regina’s hand had shot up to her cheek and she had lowered it dangerously slow before pushing forward into Emma’s space and kissing her deeply. Emma had groaned with the impact and had tangled her hands in dark hair to steady them both. She had backed Regina up until she could push her against the desk and help Regina onto it before both sets of hands had fumbled with clothing as mouths refused to part from the bruising kiss. 

Regina’s legs had wrapped around her hips and had pulled her closer into her warm body. Emma had hissed at the contact and then even louder as Regina had managed to undo her shirt and bra and settled on a pebbling nipple with her mouth. Hot wetness had engulfed her, and Emma had felt her legs buckle. Regina’s strong legs had kept her up until Emma could steady herself and push Regina’s head down harder onto her aching breast. 

“Fuck, Regina…” She had moaned into the large office space, and Regina had undone her belt buckle. She had popped the button, pulled down the zipper, and loosened the material of both her pants and panties so she could get at her goal. With her pants caught on her upper hips, Emma had parted her legs as much as the small space between Regina’s strong legs allowed and as Regina’s hand had cupped her sex without preamble, her mouth had found Emma’s again and they had kissed deeply, roughly, a kiss filled with bites and tugs. As they had broken apart, Regina had pushed a finger between the lips of her pussy to lightly apply pressure on her clit. Emma had felt her passion flare at that and had thrust her hips forward, making Regina gasp as the back of her hand was forced against her own sex. 

“Tell me you want this, Miss Swan.” Regina had demanded darkly, keeping her touch light. Back then, Emma had assumed she had wanted to shame Emma for her desire—something that Emma could not hide as she knew she was soaked. The question had become a frequent part of their interactions from that point on; Emma had assumed it was because Regina liked having Emma at her mercy; hold power over her. Now, as she swallowed against the dryness in her mouth as she remembered one of the sexiest sexual encounters of her life, Emma wasn’t so sure. Her eyes flitted over the quiet office and her hand moved from the outside of her pants to the armrest of the chair so she could push herself up. Just the memory of the events was enough to make Emma wet, and she figured a ten minute break couldn’t hurt. 

Stepping out of her office, she walked to the door that led into the sheriff’s station. With a pang of guilt for being so turned-on while at work and while Regina wasn’t feeling well, she locked it before returning to her desk and chair and unzipping her pants to make room for her hand. As her slid her hand inside, she found herself warm and wet, and moaned as she reached for her clit. She rubbed it lightly as she leaned back in the chair. As she closed her eyes, she once more heard Regina’s voice in her ear.

“Tell me you want this, Miss Swan.” Regina had demanded, and in hindsight, Emma realized she had literally asked permission to go on. Regina wanted to hear that what she was doing to Emma was what Emma wanted—Emma, who was not under her curse, whose heart she didn’t need to manipulate; Emma who grew wet for her all on her own, and who always gave her consent in the end. 

Emma had always fought it, and the tension between them had been heightened because of it. As Regina lessened the pressure, Emma had tried to hold out until Regina’s dark voice—dripping with sex and desire—filled her ears again.

“Tell me you want to feel my fingers inside your pussy. Tell me you want me to make you come… right here, in my office. Tell me, Miss Swan, and I will fuck you.” Emma had groaned in response to the obscenities trickling from Regina’s full lips, desire coursing through her, clouding her mind and judgment. She was pushing her hips into Regina roughly at this point, but Regina wasn’t going to give her more if Emma did not say the words. Eventually, Emma had succumbed.

“I want you…” She had breathed out and had been rewarded with another crushing kiss and Regina’s hand sliding lower so a single digit could slip inside of her aching core. A guttural scream had been torn from Emma at this, and even now, in her office, Emma couldn’t keep herself from moaning as she filled herself with her fingers. Her hips were moving on their own accord—much as they had done then—and Emma worked herself expertly as events unfolded in her mind’s eye.

Regina’s mouth had once more found her breasts and as Regina’s free arm snaked across Emma’s back to steady her, she had increased the force and pace of her thrusts. Emma hadn’t been able to keep the sounds of desire from streaming from her mouth and when she had suddenly managed to open her eyes, she had caught Regina staring at her in something that had not been anger, and not merely desire. Emma hadn’t cared back then; at that point, she had only cared to get off. Now, again in hindsight, Emma hoped that what she had seen in those dark pools had been wonder at Regina’s ability to cause this level of reaction in the blonde—because she would have had the right to be proud. Emma hadn’t come so hard in her life when she had come a few minutes later, Regina still pressing into her body, her hand working without tiring, and her mouth relentless on breasts, neck and lips. She had smothered Emma’s cries with her mouth as she forcefully thrusted through Emma’s orgasm, ripping every shred of pleasure from Emma’s body. By the time Emma had sagged into her, she had slowed her movements but had not pulled out; he had just held Emma for a moment. Then she had untangled herself before pushing Emma down onto the ground and parting her legs. Looking back, Emma might have enjoyed that quiet moment of comfort most of all, and it was that moment she had worked to re-create time and time again afterwards.

Emma wasn’t quiet now; as she remembered falling down onto her knees to pleasure Regina, her hand worked diligently inside her own pussy, drawing out groans of desire as she came closer and closer to orgasm. As the mental image of herself finally managed to bring Regina to orgasm and lapped up the fruits of her labor, Emma came in the quietness of her office—undisturbed and blissfully happy. How could she have missed all the signs back then? She, who prided herself on seeing through lies and reading people, had completely missed the insecurity and desire to be wanted in those early exchanges of physical pleasure. Groaning in both annoyance and bliss, Emma stilled her hand and cupped herself as she sagged deeper into the chair. They really had been a long time coming, she realized.

She took another few moments to gather herself and bask in the afterglow of her orgasm before extracting her hand, zipping up, and heading into the small restroom of the station. She washed her hands and smoothed out her hair, which had become a little too wild. Splashing water onto her overheated face and drying it after, she shared a small smile with herself at the memory of what had just transpired before heading out and unlocking the door again. Having had her fun, Emma resigned to commit herself to paperwork until the end of her shift.

By the time her phone rang, Emma had cleared away about a quarter of her backlog; quite the accomplishment. Fishing for her phone, she accepted her son’s call, hearing giggles and all-out laughter in the background.

“Hey kid, ready for pick-up?” She enquired and Henry confirmed her assumption.

“Yeah, we just had dinner. We’re playing with Wendy’s new puppy now, he’s totally cute!” Henry replied ecstatically. 

“I’m going to swing by the diner for something to eat and then I’ll come pick you up. Enjoy the puppy for a while longer, okay?” Emma told him.

“Okay mom, see you soon!” He said and before she could reply, the line went dead. She stared at her phone with a bemused smile for a moment before calling in an order to Granny’s. It was Ashley who picked up the phone and the hamburger to go was easily ordered. Hanging up, Emma grabbed her jacket, turned off the lights and locked up after herself after forwarding the sheriff’s number to her phone. You never knew what would happen and it wouldn’t be the first time she was called to an accident site or bar brawl in the middle of the night.

She ate her hamburger while driving over to the Darling household. Ruby was off on Saturday night, so Emma had escaped discussing last night’s movie night event. She was curious to find out if the night had changed Ruby’s view of Regina a little, but she could wait until she didn’t have Henry to find out. Speaking of which—Henry came out of the house when Emma arrived, puppy in his arms. It was a black Labrador, and indeed very cute. Emma and Henry spent some time playing with the pup out on the lawn before Henry said goodbye to his much older playmate and Emma said goodbye to the two boys who had far outgrown their sister. One day they were going to have to explain to her how they had managed to live so long; their timeline was still somewhat foggy to Emma.

Henry was full of wonder at the day and seemed to have had a great time with Wendy. Emma’s suspicion that Henry had a crush on the blonde was pretty much confirmed at this point, but she let the subject rest. It was Henry’s first real crush (unless you counted Ruby), and that was precious enough to preserve as long as possible. They made it home by eight PM, and found Mary Margaret and David on the loveseat, chatting. It seems the anniversary had gone well, and Emma was happy to see them enjoy each other’s company—as embarrassing as it was to see your parents macking on each other. 

It didn’t take long for Emma to pull up one of the dining room chairs as Henry took the comfy one and Mary Margaret had installed them all with hot cocoa (with cinnamon) before Henry had even finished telling his grandparents about the puppy. Emma feared what his next birthday present request was going to be, and was quite sure Regina was not going to be onboard with having a dog. In fact, she was quite sure the thought alone would mortify her neat-freak of a girlf—something. A something. Clamping down on her thoughts, Emma focused back on the conversation, blushing slightly at her own brazen labeling of her relationship with Regina.

“…and then John made pancakes that were so good!” Henry gushed. “With maple syrup and butter, because that’s the best way, according to Wendy.” Emma and Mary Margaret exchanged an amused look at that. 

“It sounds like you had a really good time.” Mary Margaret said happily as she regarded him from her position on the loveseat, curled up into her husband. Henry nodded vehemently and grinned from ear to ear. It was about that time that Henry’s cell phone rang in his backpack. Rushing to get it, Henry tore open his bag and flipped open the very basic phone Regina had bought him just so he could call and text in case of emergency. 

“Mom?” He asked with a mixture of excitement and worry. Emma sat up straight, just as interested to hear from Regina as Henry was. Henry listened intently, and after a few—excruciatingly long—seconds, he smiled. Emma released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Okay, so Regina was at least doing well enough to talk and reassure her son. That was something. Regina seemed to be monologueing, as Henry only cut in with a few affirmations, but eventually, he told his mom he loved her and handed her the phone. With a hammering heart, she took the phone from him and avoided Mary Margaret’s eyes as she got up. She headed outside, closing the door before putting the phone to her ear.

“Hey…” She said into the receiver, her voice softer and more loving than she had heard it in a long time. She tried to convey her relief, her love, and all of today’s light bulb moments into a single syllable and it took a beat for Regina to reply.

“Hey…” Regina answered, and she sounded tearful but relaxed. 

“How are you? You worried me.” Emma said softly, finding a spot to sit down as she talked, cradling the phone to her cheek as if it somehow brought Regina closer to her. 

“I’m feeling better. Tinker Bell is taking good care of me and it was strengthening to hearing Henry’s voice just now… and yours. I hope you are not angry with me, Emma. I just—” Regina spoke thoughtfully and there was pain in her voice, although the relief was clear as well.

“I understand.” Emma cut in, trying to reassure Regina. She didn’t want her to feel any worse than she must already been feeling. “I’m not mad, I just want you to feel better.”

“I am. I’m still very tired, but I look forward to…” Regina trailed off a moment before forcefully continuing her sentence. Emma’s heart broke at the insecurity that was conveyed in that single pause. 

“…seeing you both tomorrow.” Regina sounded as if she was convincing herself that Emma would want to accompany her son and instead of the annoyance that Emma might have felt at that in the past, now it just made her want to make promises of always and forever she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep. She settled on the middle ground as she looked around her skittishly to make sure she wasn’t being overheard.

“Regina, I need you to know that I cannot wait to see you tomorrow, to see with my own eyes you’re okay, to take care of you if you’ll let me. I’m not good at… caring for people, but with you… I’d like to try.” Emma confessed, keeping her voice down but trying to convey she meant it. Regina was silent a long moment and then Emma heard her clear her throat.

“I’d like that.” Regina confessed and Emma smiled broadly, the knot of worry and tension in her gut untangling just a little. 

“Alright, tomorrow morning,” Emma sealed the deal, not able to keep the joy at this bonding moment out of her voice. 

“Tomorrow morning.” Regina agreed. “…and Emma, thank you for understanding, and for… caring.” Regina finished the sentence, and Emma felt her heart flutter.

“I do.” She confessed.

“Me too.” Regina answered, her voice thick with emotion. Obviously her emotional state was still rather fragile and Emma found herself uncharacteristically wishing she could hold Regina for a while. 

“I uh… need to go back inside. Everyone must be wondering what’s taking so long and why I ran outside to talk to you.” Emma said with an amused groan.

“Good luck explaining that one, Miss Swan.” Regina answered her with a grin to her voice.

“Yeah, thanks. Totally worth it, though. Now, back to bed with you and uhhh… if it helps, think about my arms around you? I’m going to be thinking about that when I go to bed.” Emma said with a blush, slowly getting the hang of this soft and warm feeling talking to Regina gave her. She could talk to her for hours, Emma felt, and that had never happened to her before. Ever.

“That will certainly help.” Regina answered her softly, and Emma shivered, blaming the chilly night air, but knowing that was bullshit. She was happy, and it were the butterflies that caused her skin to tingle. She didn’t want to let Regina go, but knew she had to. When had Emma been reduced to a schoolgirl with a crush, exactly? 

“Okay, sleep. We’ll be there when you wake up.” She said softly. 

“I look forward to it, Emma.” Regina said, and Emma wondered if she was using her name so much because Emma had told her she would like her to. She hoped that was the case.

“Bye…” Emma said, squeezing a few more seconds out of the conversation.

“Bye.” Regina answered, sounding much happier than at the start of the conversation. A few more seconds of silence and then the line went dead. Emma sat with the phone in her hand for another minute or so because she needed to center herself a little if she didn’t want to give away her feelings once she faced her parents.

Once she got inside, Emma realized right away she was in for a world of hurt. Henry was gone and Mary Margaret had untangled herself from David, who was looking at her with that paternal look that always meant he was going to make an effort to be a good dad. Ever since her discussion with Tinker Bell, Emma had realized how loaded a term ‘good’ was, and she wasn’t looking forward the lecture Mary Margaret was obviously going to deliver. Emma could see it in Mary Margaret’s slightly narrowed eyes and the tightness of her mouth. 

This was one of the moments Emma missed the old Mary Margaret, who had been a little simple but a friend through thick and thin. If she had told the old Mary Margaret that she was probably heading towards an actual relationship with Regina Mills, she would have been absolutely shocked but supportive in the end. Emma was sure of that. She couldn’t blame the new Mary Margaret for not feeling the same way—with Snow’s memories and twenty-eight years of being stuck in the body of old Mary Margaret, her daughter sleeping with her nemesis was most likely the worst betrayal Mary Margaret could suffer—but Emma was quite sure it wasn’t up to Mary Margaret to judge her for anything right now, especially after almost leaving her again in the face of David’s dependence to Neverland.

“How is Regina doing?” Mary Margaret asked, and the light and sweet tone to her voice sent Emma’s spidey senses into overdrive. She chose to remain standing for this one.

“She’s good, back in bed now. Where’s Henry?” She asked casually.

“Upstairs, reading before going to sleep.” Her dad answered as he ran his hands over his upper legs; it was a clear sign he wanted to be anywhere but here. Mary Margaret’s eyes hadn’t left Emma since she had come in. Emma warred with herself: she could avoid this entire conversation by walking away now, but Mary Margaret would continue to pester her in the passive-aggressive way she had adopted since the curse broke. Mary Margaret had something on her mind, and it wouldn’t go away. And so, Emma leveled her with a glare.

“Why don’t you say what’s on your mind, _mom_?” 

Emma knew it was mean, that antagonizing Mary Margaret before this discussion had even taken off was a bad idea, but she had made it clear enough in Neverland that Mary Margaret and David were her parents by blood, but not by bond. They had abandoned her, and she had been trying to get over that—until her biological mother had brought up a new child for a do-over and made it clear that this kid and their marriage came before Emma. They hadn’t discussed Neverland much, but Emma had to admit the memories still stung badly. To be abandoned because of circumstances was something, to be rejected as a choice was something else. Mary Margaret flinched—probably at her words and tone—and pushed her lips together into a tight line.

“Emma! Don’t talk to your mother like that.” David tried, and Emma had to physically restrain herself by grabbing the back of the chair she had previously pushed into the circle so she wouldn’t tell them both _exactly_ how she had wanted to ‘talk’ to them since Neverland. Instead, she set her jaw and fixed her father with a stare she hoped conveyed a very clear message: ‘you have absolutely no right to tell me what I can and cannot do.’ Then, she dragged her eyes over to Mary Margaret again, who was quietly seething.

“You’re wondering what’s going on, right? Why I suddenly care so much about Regina?” Emma added, knowing she was coming dangerously close to saying something she shouldn’t be saying—had promised she wouldn’t say.

“She’s dangerous…” Mary Margaret whispered into the onslaught that was Emma’s cold voice. 

“She hasn’t been dangerous for a long time. What she has been is ignored, hurt, degraded and humiliated.” Emma seethed, struggling to keep her voice down so Henry wouldn’t hear. How dare her parents force her into this discussion when Henry was here! 

“She is Henry’s _mother_ ,” Emma continued. “She took care of him on her own for eleven years, and she did a really, really, good job at it. I know she made your life a living hell for years, tried to keep you apart, killed, tortured… She did terrible things but she has been fighting to do better, for Henry… for me, for you, for all of the people she hurt. And every time she tries, the best she can get is a kick in the teeth. So please, tell me again how dangerous she is, because in the last few months she has done a lot more good than the two of you have done combined.” Emma finished and as she watched Mary Margaret’s mouth open and David look away, she shook her head and spun around. 

“Emma!” Mary Margaret’s voice was full of hurt, and pleading her to stay. Emma stopped, but only turned her head around. She couldn’t really see them but she knew where they were.

“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry’, I don’t want to hear it.” She answered coldly. She waited ‘till the count of five before she ascended the stairs. Her parents were silent.

She entered her bedroom and shut the door, finding Henry sitting on his bed with tears in his eyes. As soon as she closed the door behind her—which she now realized had been open—he got up and flew into her body. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his head and shoulders and pressed him close to her. 

“You heard that didn’t you?” She asked with dread in her voice. She swallowed heavily as he nodded. She could feel his small frame shaking.

“I’m sorry, kid.” She added, speaking for her parents, but also for herself for not holding back, and for the situation in general. He untangled himself and looked up at her in a way that made her crouch down so she could look him in the eyes fully. Her little boy; she had missed so much of his life, but they had both been very fortunate someone with such a big heart had stood up to take care of him in her place. Henry threw his arms around her neck and pressed himself close to her in one of his rare full hug.

“Thank you.” He whispered against her cheek. Emma’s eyelids closed on their own accord as she hugged him close.

“For what, Henry? You never should have heard that.” She said apologetically.

“For standing up for her.” He answered her, and Emma smiled at Henry as he pulled back once more to look into her eyes. “She deserves that.” He added vehemently, and she smiled wider, rubbing the top of his head.

“Yes she does.” She agreed. She paused a moment to get a grip on her tumbling thoughts. “Don’t be mad at Mary Margaret and David, okay? They just want to keep you safe, and keep me safe as well. They worry. One day they will see they have nothing to worry about but until that time, we are just going to have to show them how great your mom is.” 

Henry regarded her a moment and then nodded, smiling through his tears.

“Okay.” He said and she kissed his cheek. 

“Are you ready for bed?” She asked and he nodded. He was, she realized. He had his PJ’s on and she could smell the toothpaste on his breath. “Okay, hop in. I’ll read you a story.” She said as she stood. As she watched Henry rush to the bed in the far corner of her room, she couldn’t help but smile at the way her life was turning out. She would deal with her parents later; right now all that mattered was that she had her son back who loved her very much, and a little way’s away was a woman lying in bed, hopefully dreaming about Emma’s arms around her. It was more than she had ever dared hope for, and most days she felt like it was far more than she deserved.


	11. No White Whiter Than The Memory Of White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to HAIM's 'Don't Save Me', and with blood, sweat, and tears due to difficulties understanding Mary Margaret after the Great Character Assassination of 2013. I hope you enjoy this chapter, which—I admit—is all about the feels.

Regina woke up with warm sunlight on her face and languidness in her limbs that she hadn’t felt for a long, long time. She stretched luxuriously and scanned the clock, finding the time to be a little after 10 AM. From behind her bedroom door, she could hear the sounds of at least one of the most important people in her life right now: Henry’s voice drifted up from the ground floor—judging by other sounds she was hearing, from inside the kitchen—and she found herself smiling and hungry. She would get up soon, join her son and Emma; see if Tinker Bell was still in the house. First, though, she would turn over one more time and bask in the quiet. 

She had slept wonderfully, her panic attack seemingly having driven away the most pressing of dark thoughts so she was allowed to sleep blissfully undisturbed. Tinker Bell’s encouraging words once she had first installed her in bed had warmed her heart enough to surrender to her weakness: Emma had agreed with the arrangement, and Tinker Bell had assured her she wasn’t angry. It was enough to give Regina the peace of mind she had needed to surrender to her exhaustion. Once she had woken up, she had found the door slightly ajar, and had swallowed her pride in favor of the comfort of her bed; she had called out for the ex-fairy, and Tink had appeared quickly in the doorframe, a smile on her bright features, and a light salad in hand.

They had eaten it together, using the forks Tinker Belle supplied. Regina sat up in bed, Tinker Bell cross-legged to her side. Regina had been reminded strongly of the first time they had met and they had spoken about their lives from that moment on, avoiding the dark and painful and focusing instead on broad lines and anecdotes they could share in a moment as fragile as this. It had been a wonderful experience to have someone to just _chat_ with. She couldn’t remember the last time she had just done that—unless she counted her outing with Tinker Bell so many years ago. Once the salad was gone, Tinker Bell left her to call Henry and Emma and then collected the phone before pulling the door shut behind her, leaving Regina to once more sink into slumber as she envisioned Emma’s arms around her. 

Speaking to Henry had been wonderful, but her talk with Emma had truly been special. Emma had not only been open but… cute; for lack of a better term. It was a side of the woman she got to see on occasion, but it was rare, and to hear her hint at building a future with her was even more unheard of. For Emma it was much easier to say ‘I love you’ than ‘trust me’, and to hear her admit to wanting to be there for Regina was something that had not only taken Regina completely by surprise but had filled her with emotion. She had postponed processing the event and had simply let it engulf her in its warmth as she had drifted off into much needed rest. 

Her musings were interrupted with a soft knock on the door. With a voice rough from disuse, she called for whomever it was to enter as she made sure she was decent. She sat up, running her hands through her hair, and smiled widely as Henry’s beautiful face poked inside her bedroom.

“Hey mom, can we come in?” He asked softly and she nodded.

“Of course, sweetheart.” She said in equal tones and watched as he disappeared a moment before the door was opened for him by Emma, who found her eyes right away and regarded her with a disarming—and dare she say, loving—look as their son carried a breakfast tray inside her bedroom. Regina tried to remember when the last time was that she had gotten breakfast in bed and had to admit it had most certainly been a while. Henry walked carefully over to the bed, trying not to spill anything on the tray. Regina shared a grin with Emma who was lagging behind to give her son space, and then sat up a little more so she could receive Henry’s present. It was a beautiful display; in a completely chaotic way. There were pancakes—with the odd combination of maple syrup and butter, she noted—French toast, toast with a boiled egg, and scrambled eggs with what she assumed was bacon. In the drinks department there was a cup of tea, a cup of coffee and orange juice. She wondered a moment if this was a breakfast for three people but by the expectant look her son gave her, Regina deduced she was supposed to eat all of this alone. Well, she was hungry, but not that hungry.

“Henry, this is wonderful!” She exclaimed happily and that wasn’t a lie or exaggeration at all. It looked delicious, and her stomach was growling. 

“We didn’t know what you would like so… we made everything we could think of.” Henry explained and Regina grinned.

“All my favorites are here. Thank you, Henry.” She said, genuinely touched and glanced over at Emma, who had moved to the foot of the bed.

“You cook?” She asked, a slight teasing quality to her voice. Emma’s head dipped down with a smirk and a blush.

“Nah, Tink made most of it, and Henry almost everything else. I boiled an egg and made you coffee.” She answered sheepishly and Regina grinned. She had not expected anything else, honestly, and it was endearing. 

“Tink left, by the way. She asked if you could call her later today? Tell her how you’re doing?” Emma continued. “She figured you were in good hands now.” Emma added with an undertone of genuine care and Regina mirrored the emotion with her eyes and a soft tug of her lips. 

“I think I am.” She said softy as she reached out with one hand to Henry to pull him close to her and he scooted on the bed to her left. She patted her right side with her free hand and Emma made her way to the edge of the bed a little shyly, despite having slept on that side of the bed for a good portion of last week’s nights. She crawled on and settled against the headrest, close enough to Regina to rub their shoulders together. Regina wrapped her arm around Henry’s shoulders and squeezed Emma’s leg with her other hand before using that hand to reach for a fork.

“I don’t know where to start.” She admitted and Henry grinned.

“Try the pancakes! They’re made the way Wendy likes it and they are really good.” Henry gushed as he jabbed at the small stack with his finger. At that moment Regina felt a nudge at her shoulder and met Emma’s eyes with a mischievous twinkle in them. At least they were both well aware of their son’s little crush. 

Regina sliced off a bite of pancakes with her fork, dragging it through the runny maple syrup and melted butter before leaning forward letting her lips close around the morsel. Her eyes closed on their own account as the tastes mixed in her mouth and her lips curled up into a smile. To her surprise the muffled moan that escaped wasn’t hers. As she opened her eyes and withdrew the fork from her mouth, she settled her gaze on Emma’s face, who was looking her with such intense desire Regina shivered. If eating caused this reaction in Emma, she was going to be need a new wardrobe very soon. Smiling lovingly to break the sudden tension that had settled between them, she winked and turned to her son, who was obliviously waiting for her reaction. She swallowed the bite and licked her lips—very conscious of the effect she was having on Emma. 

“That,” She told her son. “Is a very good combination. Has Emma tried it yet?” She asked, keeping her voice void of the devilish pleasure she took in Emma’s reaction to her. It was so good to be wanted, desired, without strings attached and without being made to do so. Henry told her Emma hadn’t, so Regina unwrapped her arms from Henry’s shoulders, cut off another bite, and brought it to Emma’s mouth with a devilish smirk hidden from their son.

“Open wide, Miss Swan…” she purred and caught Emma’s pupils dilating before she licked her lips. She parted them and accepted the bite, not once breaking eye contact with Regina, who was taking far too much pleasure from this simple game of rising desire. The moan that Emma choked out as she closed her lips around the fork was sultry for a moment before teetering off the edge into absurd overcompensation. She grinned widely as Henry laughed. 

“I told you it was good!” Henry said, having leaned back against the headboard so he could look past Regina as Emma chewed. Emma coughed as she nodded and Regina smiled a satisfied smile as she placed the fork demonstratively onto the tray. She had won this round; that was for sure. She would make it up to Emma eventually, she promised as she looked over to the woman who had gone beet red and was coughing.

“Down the wrong pipe.” Emma coughed out to a worried Henry, causing Regina to giggle like a schoolgirl at the unintended—or had it been intended?—loaded comment. Thankfully, the moment passed right over Henry’s young mind, and the three settled into a cozy moment of sharing food, drinks, and conversation. Henry shared about his time with Wendy yesterday and Regina groaned at the mention of a dog. She could see the thoughts forming in her young son and was determined to squash that idea before it even fully formed. The only one walking a dog would end up being her and that was the last thing she needed. Pongo’s completely unfounded love for her was quite enough—and she didn’t even have to walk that mutt. Yet, as she looked at Henry’s happy face as he spoke about the puppy, she couldn’t bring herself to have this conversation again.

“It’s a good thing you can visit Wendy any time you want to play with the puppy.” Was the closest she got to an all-out denial of her son’s desires. He regarded her closely, trying to determine if he could get away with a pro-dogs campaign right now but decided against it. Good, Regina was actually feeling calm and relaxed at the moment and preferred to remain that way for at least a little while longer.

“How was your sleep-over?” She asked cheerfully as she took a sip from her mug of cooling tea, and saw Henry’s features darken for a moment before answering.

“It was fine.” He said and Regina turned her head to look over at Emma who self-consciously licked her lips. She knew her son well enough to know that he was hiding something, and she knew Emma enough to know it had something to do with her. She noted absentmindedly that she wasn’t getting angry—her default reaction at anything happening with her son—and realized it was because she trusted Emma with him. Emma wanted the best for him, and would never let anything hurt him. Besides, he was sitting right here and looked unharmed. It couldn’t have been that bad. With an encouraging tone of surprise in her query, she eyed the blonde.

“Emma?” She requested and waited until Emma’s eyes locked with her.

“Yeah, so, remember I said on the phone I would have some explaining to do? I did. Mary Margaret, David and I had a bit of a talk about well… you.” Emma started sheepishly. Regina groaned internally, but kept her face void of anything more than encouragement.

“What was said about me?” She asked casually. At this, both stayed quiet. Emma—hopefully realizing she was the adult and it wasn’t fair to make her son continue the story—eventually opened her mouth again.

“They were…. A little worried about the time we spent with you and the way we… care.” Emma added, and Regina felt her eyebrow rise.

“Ah,” She answered. “And how did our son become involved?” She asked, turning to the boy in question. “I hope he was not there for this ‘talk’?” Regina continued.

“I sort of overheard them…?” Henry tried. “I’d left the door to the bedroom open by accident but mom, it was short and Emma totally stood up for you. She was awesome.” Henry said, looking over at his birth mother in hero worship, who smiled genuinely before her face fell.

“I told them that you are a wonderful mother to Henry and that, perhaps, it’s about time they gave you some credit for that and all the other good things you’ve done lately.” The blonde said defiantly, but her eyes were filled with insecurity at the uncertainty of having done the right thing or not. It was only as Regina’s face broke into a smile of affection and she placed her hand gently on Emma’s leg that Emma smiled in return.

“That is very sweet, Miss Swan,” Regina said softly. At that, Emma dipped her head adorably as she blushed.

“… I am sure they did not take too kindly to that?” Regina prodded, well aware of the years and years of history between her and the elder Charmings. Snow and she had been close once, and although she had not been ready to be a mother to the little brat, she had cared for her in their time together. After Daniel, however, Snow White had been the one to take the blame for Cora’s failure as a parent and while they had both committed atrocities in the years that followed, Regina fully admitted that the blame was on no other than her for the devastation their fragile relation had suffered. Snow White had held out a long time in the face of Regina’s rage—she had not wanted her dead until the very end of the rule of the Queen. With Snow’s hope in her redemption finally running out, Regina had given up hope herself. She had always desired to be good—to live her own life, not the life forced upon her—but she had realized at that point that this was the path laid out for her and if there was ever to be a happy ending for her, it was one she forged herself through blood and pain and trials of fire. Any chance at redemption had been forgotten, and only the Evil Queen remained.

Yet even the Evil Queen had not been able to convince herself to kill Snow White—and in the end, Snow white had not been able to kill her either. Regina had tried to get her to, to end it all, by enraging her stepdaughter while the archers readied their arrows. She spoke of her regret at not killing Snow White, at not causing more suffering, more pain, but that was the Evil Queen talking, not Regina. Regina had still desired redemption, as much as the Evil Queen tried to force her to give up that hope. She had wanted to live; yet, it hurt less to be the Evil Queen—to go out with her head held high. There had been no backing down once she had reached this level of malevolence; Snow White had made that crystal clear. But Snow had spared her life and once more, they had walked that fine line between mortal enemies and human beings who had once found comfort in each other’s presence, despite the situation they found themselves in.

It had been her own anger that had led to the unraveling that followed; Snow White had given her one more chance at redemption while in her jail cell, and Regina had squandered it, too caught up in the rage of the Evil Queen to even realize what she was turning down. With her banishment complete, the darkness had drawn her in deeper and deeper, fueled every step of the way by Rumplestiltskin, who had been there for every one of her defining moments—and always to draw her further down into cold, harsh, darkness. He had played on her desperation and longing for freedom from day one, and with every kill, every sneer, every plea, she became further and further drawn into him and his plans. He had played her like a fiddle, but always ensured she felt like she was in control of the situation. She should have been, but she never was. She was just reacting to the waves of her life like a shipwrecked soul, drifting in an ocean too wide for her to comprehend. He had seen the endgame; she never had.

She hated Rumplestiltskin more than she could possibly describe, but she did not hate Snow White. There was pain there, and grief, and anger—oh sure there was anger—but she recognized the same lost soul in Snow White as she recognized in herself. Fate in the form of Rumplestiltskin had cast Snow White in the role of light and good, and her in the roll of dark and evil, and they had both been caught in it. Even now, Mary Margaret was suffering from their role call; with the murder of Cora—not out of a desire to save the town, but to save her own life—she had stumbled outside of her lot in life and Regina knew as no other how hard a pill that was to swallow. Yet, Regina was slowly reaching towards the light while Mary Margaret was flirting with the dark and it was a slippery slope from there. Evil wasn’t born, it was made. Regina had been made into the evil she became and while she reacted to Mary Margaret like nails on chalkboard and found peace in the pixie-haired woman’s struggle for her own redemption, she grieved for young Snow White, who had been a brat but had at least been allowed happiness—a chance she had wanted herself.

So where did that leave them now? Regina would be lying if she said that Emma’s parentage did not play on her mind often. At first, it had fueled her rage along with the fear that Emma would take her son from her. It became her mission to keep Emma and Mary Margaret from ever finding out the truth about each other, and yes—in a twisted way Regina was not proud of now, fucking Emma in those early days had always been heightened by the knowledge she was literally taking Snow White’s daughter. To see mother and daughter move in together had been a bitter, bitter, pill to swallow, and it had fueled her anger towards Mary Margaret especially. She had lashed out any way she could—to both of them—as she felt herself once more cornered like in the Old World. This land—although she had come to hate its monotone repetitiveness—was supposed to be her happy ending, and because of the price it had cost her, she had for a long time refused to allow herself to see it had actually been a prison which was slowly driving her insane. 

She had been angry at the world in general but mostly at Rumplestiltskin for setting her up with the child of the Savior, at the Savior herself, and at Henry for passing judgment over her so easily, even though she had taken care of him for his entire life. He had known his birth mother only days and yet, he chose her over Regina. It had hurt. It had hurt more than any pain Snow White had ever been able to inflict, and his betrayal had cut her deeper than anything Rumplestiltskin had ever done to her. Yet, he was her son and she would never, ever, stop fighting for him and his affections. To have him pressed against her now pushed any thought of his youthful betrayal out of her mind because a mother loves her son unconditionally. 

Things between Emma and her were still awkward in her mind because of Emma’s ties to Snow White—not because Snow White was an enemy to her, but because she was an enemy to Snow. With her slow ascent from Evil Queen to Mayor, to mother and then Regina, Regina had slowly become aware she still wished for redemption and especially from Snow White. She had fought that feeling for a long time, but it had hit her full force when they had returned from Neverland in triumph; she had been almost solely responsible for getting her son back and for once, she had actually belonged. Sailing back on the Jolly Roger had felt like redemption. Yet, as soon as they had set foot on the Storybrooke shore, Queen Margaret had reared her ugly head and Regina had been cast out again—too dark, too intense, too driven to accomplish her goals, even if they were to rescue her grandson. It had _hurt_. It had hurt more than she had imagined it would hurt—because she hadn’t been stupid enough to think this would last. Yet, the venom directed at her had still scarred her deeply. Hope had flared for a moment and had been brutally strangled by reality. 

She had seen something in Mary Margaret in that exchange that she had seen signs of in Neverland but never could identify: fear. Mary Margaret was afraid, and if Regina had to guess, she would say the dark haired ruler was afraid that blurring the lines of good and evil that existed between the two of them would lead to the darkening of her own heart. She dared say that the woman feared that the gray that was slowly clouding her was going to seep through her porcelain skin and chip at her moral compass until the entitlement of young Snow White, the anger of the older Snow, and the insecurity she had inherited from Mary Margaret overtook her and she lost the moral high ground. At that point, she would have to succumb to the fact that Regina was not all black and she was not all white and that without those classifications, they would actually be able to built bridges between them. Regina did not have to be the Evil Queen forever; the title had always been Snow White’s to give, and she could lift it from her as well. Yet, Regina feared that Mary Margaret—who had always been incredibly self-absorbed—would never admit that evil could be redeemed, because that would mean good could be damned. Mary Margaret would always paint her darker than she was, just so she could appear lighter by comparison. And so, they would forever be forced to dance this dance in the roles they had been cast in by Rumplestiltskin, and Emma would always be caught between her and Mary Margaret. Emma’s mother would never accept Regina as Emma’s partner, because it was too painful for her to admit that if evil got a happy ending, hers might be threatened. 

“Regina?” Emma’s bemused voice cut through her reverie and Regina’s eyes flew to Emma, then to her son, and she realized that she had completely zoned out for a moment. Both Emma and Henry were grinning and she mused that she must have been gone for quite a bit of time.

“I’m sorry, my dears,” she spoke with a laugh in her voice. “It seems I was miles away for a moment.”

“Seemed like it. What were you thinking about?” Emma asked curiously.

“Your mother.” Regina said and for the first time in as long as Regina could remember, there was no dark edge to the words. At Emma’s eyebrows shooting up, Regina smiled gently. Her musings had finally brought her a breakthrough in understanding the woman who had always been able to bring forth emotion in her like only her daughter and grandson could and suddenly, she wasn’t afraid anymore, and she wasn’t angry. Her happiness did not depend on Mary Margaret, nor on the part of her that was still Snow White. Regina’s happy end was in her own hands, and in the hands of the Savior and the son they shared. Regina had begun to close the chapter of the Evil Queen long ago, and she was shedding the mantle like the weight that it was. If she was ever given the chance, she would still ask for forgiveness from Mary Margaret, but she would not be hurt if she was refused, because a lot had happened and while she had no regrets, she did have her guilt. She deserved to carry that with her for the rest of her life, but she did not have to let it drag her down into the darkness that had once clouded her life. If she continued to make amends, if she continued to open herself up and mend bridges that she had always thought impossible to mend, then she would redeem herself. She did not need Snow White for that—not anymore—because Regina now realized that the one who had most to lose at this point was Mary Margaret, not her.

“What about my mother?” Emma enquired cautiously.

“I was thinking that I love you—the both of you—and that without your mother I would never have either of you with me here today. I was thinking that I owe Mary Margaret a lot and that one day I hope she will let me thank her for that and believe that I mean it.” Regina added, her voice breaking with emotion. Henry pressed himself against her—she knew she had hurt him by spitting venom at Mary Margaret for all these years, and especially after the curse was broken—but Emma just looked at her for a quiet moment before Regina saw tears well up in her eyes and a smile as brilliant as the sun outside her bedroom window lighted up her face. With a passion born of pure emotion, Emma rushed forward to kiss her deeply. She drank from trembling lips as she brought a hand up to tangle in Emma’s hair, the other wrapped around Henry, rubbing his back. 

As they broke apart, Emma cupped her face in her hands and stared at her intently, green eyes drilling into her own. They sought for something in her eyes—confirmation that she really felt this way, Regina thought—and then kissed her lightly again. Regina felt like herself again; Tinker Bell’s friendship had opened the door to her old self and for the first time in many, many years she could feel the wide eyed optimism which that Regina had still carried inside of her bubble up to the surface. It made her hope for more for herself, for the happy ending she had thought was far beyond her grasp. It made her brave.

“We will talk about this.” Emma told her and Regina nodded before pressing her lips lightly to Emma’s one more time and breaking her hold on her. She untangled herself from Emma a moment to focus on her son, whose head she lifted from her lap and whose eyes she met with all the maternal love she could put into them.

“Henry, I need to tell you something very important that I should have told you much earlier but I was unable to because I was really, really scared. I need to tell you that I am proud of the young man you are becoming, and that while you are grounded until you are thirty if you ever do something like that again, I am so happy you went to Boston to bring Emma back with you. I thought she was going to take you away from me and I was so scared of loosing you that I almost drove you away with the way I behaved, and I am so sorry about that.” She smiled somewhat sadly at the tears forming in Henry’s wide eyes. 

“You are everything to me, Henry.” She told him. “And your mom saw that. She didn’t come to take you away, she came to be with you and it took me a really long time to see that. When you were gone, when you were with Peter Pan, I think Emma and I both realized that the best way to make you happy was to work together, and to be friends… and we got you back. Together, we are at our best.” At this, she turned to look at Emma, whose eyes were as tearful as Henry’s, and Regina offered her a hand that Emma took with both of hers. Turning once more to Henry, Regina took a deep and steadying breath.

“I know you thought of me as the Evil Queen for a long time, but I hope you at least see me as more than that again. I have tried very hard to be better for you and when I got a little sick yesterday, I realized that with your help, and with Emma’s help, I want to work as hard as I can to make Operation Monarch Butterfly a success. Will you help me with that, my little prince?” She asked softly and Henry—who had sat up during her speech—cried out he would before hugging her in a full body hug. Over his shoulder, Regina found Emma’s eyes and could not hide the small pang of fear she felt at her impromptu declaration. Perhaps Emma was not ready for this, perhaps she did not want them to head in this direction? They had spoken so little about their future or even about their present that Regina didn’t know—she could only hope.

“ _Is this okay?_ ” She mouthed silently as she hugged her son and saw Emma smile her beautiful emotion-filled smile through her tears as she swallowed past the lump in her throat. Emma nodded slowly but vehemently, and squeezed Regina’s hand with one of hers while sliding the other up and down Henry’s back. Regina smiled equally widely and knew beyond a doubt that no matter what would happen now, she had her happy ending right here; it wasn’t about the details, it was about the love she had right here within her reach.


	12. The Soft Underbelly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the late update; it's been a hectic week and my computer is giving me a lot of problems. This chapter is a bit of a filler episode, working up to the next chapter which will have another big step for the women. I wanted to wait with posting until I could post the whole of it, but I have run out of time to write--perhaps for the rest of the weekend. I wanted to give you guys at least something after such a long time so here you are. Written to Florence + the Machine's 'Never Let Me Go', which will also be the theme for chapter 13. I have also tentatively set the total number of chapters for this fic to fifteen. This might not be entirely correct, but it is my planning right now. Thank you for sticking with me!

After Regina’s confessional, the mood settled into far more comfortable territory. Before long, Henry was chugging bits of scrambled egg at Emma, and the blonde was laughing while Regina’s eyes narrowed dangerously before the woman simply leaned back and allowed these two free spirits to have their moment of play. 

Emma watched from the corner of her eye as Regina salvaged the mug of cooling coffee from the onslaught and wrapped her hands around it in a universal symbol of comfort. Whatever had happened to Regina yesterday, it had been as profoundly changing as Zero Hour had been. This Regina looked happy and while she had seen the brunette content before, as well as satisfied, warm, and trusting, ‘happy’ was a new mood and it warmed Emma’s heart to see it. That was, until a bit of egg hit her square between the eyes and she dove for her son, trying to keep the breakfast tray upright as she wrestled him down on the bed, over Regina’s legs, but not caring either way.

Emma was happy too; Henry’s small frame was shaking with laughter as she tickled him into submission—Emma had never been good at losing, not even to her own kid—and Regina had pretty much admitted to wanting to see where they could end up together. That was a huge step and while it was slightly petrifying as well, mostly it was a long time coming.

The last few months had been a whirlwind of emotions for Emma, and they had required a level of emotional maturity she had not thought herself capable of. Many times during the ride she had wondered if she would have made the same birthday wish again if she had the chance for a do-over—as if that would have stopped Henry from coming back into her life. Nothing in her life had hurt as much as giving up Henry—not even realizing for the first time that her parents had abandoned her, not being sent away from the only home she had ever known, not being betrayed by Neal, not going to prison… those were painful but not on the level of having life grow inside of you for months and then giving it up. 

Even more painful, perhaps, was that had she not been in prison, she might still have given up her baby boy. Emma had always been sure she could not be a mother; she had never had a role model to follow and even now—even though Regina had graciously allowed Emma to stake a claim to Henry—she still felt her role in his life was more that of a really cool aunt than a mother. Regina was his full mother with years of experience between them—movie night had driven that stake home good and true—but Emma tended to call Henry ‘kid’ and stuff him with so much junk food he developed a stomach ache. She was fun to be around, sure, but when shit hit the fan in Neverland, Emma had still let herself get distracted by her own issues, while Regina had never once veered off course.

Her bullshit shenanigans in the face of Neverland’s trials still did not sit well with Emma, and she wasn’t proud of herself for getting sucked into the whole ‘Hook or Neal’-thing. At least she had shut Neal out of her life as a romantic option in Neverland… Hook was still around, although she avoided him most days. She had told him she wasn’t interested and that the kiss had just been an accepted and executed dare, but he didn’t believe her. He was still ‘giving her space’. Well then, that space had been well filled by Regina.

“I give up! Uncle! Emma! Stooooooop!” Henry was squealing under her, completely out of breath, pushing at her with his hands and legs while he still laughed, showered in a curtain of Emma’s hair. 

“You had better give our son a chance to breath, dear,” Regina teased as Emma moved off of Henry with a smirk. “…we did not go through that ordeal to have you be the end of him now.” The former Queen sassed, holding onto the breakfast tray with a steadying hand. Both Emma and Henry rolled their eyes and Regina smirked at the personality trait the two obviously shared.

“He’s fine, and totally beaten, aren’t you, kid?” Emma asked teasingly, sitting up on her knees and running a hand through her hair. Henry just shook his head as his mom’s adolescent behavior and crawled up into a seated position.

“Mom?” He asked, eyes on Regina.

“Yes dear?” Regina asked, an eyebrow quirked as she lowered the mug from her shapely lips.

“Can we maybe… go to the park today…? Please?” He asked and Emma saw a minute flash of sadness come over Regina’s face before she plastered on her ‘mom’-smile and looked over at Emma, who nodded encouragingly. A walk in the park sounded like a great outing.

“Of course we can, Henry. I think that is a great plan.” Regina answered pleasantly and Henry smiled broadly.

“I’ll go get the bread!” He said excitedly and bounced off of the bed. Regina’s eyes tracked him until he was out of sight before coming to rest on Emma.

“How about a proper hello?” Regina asked and Emma—although worried—smiled broadly. Crawling slowly to Regina, she put the tray away on the end of the bed while Regina put her mug on the nightstand. Holding out a hand, Regina cupped Emma’s face when she came close enough and pulled her into her for a gentle kiss that escalated gently into a languid kiss that took both their breaths away. 

“I missed that…” Emma purred happily against lips now curling into a smile. Regina kissed her chastely again before repeating the sentiment. Regretfully, Emma pulled away from the brunette who smiled at her one more time before slinging her legs from the bed and standing up. She stretched slowly, affording Emma a glance at perfect skin between the slightly parted folds of her silky gray pajamas. Suddenly Emma’s mouth went dry—as was so often the case when confronted with Regina’s beauty—and she subconsciously licked her lips as she imagined the muscle running over the flat expense of Regina’s belly. It wasn’t even a conscious thought; this time the thought came to her completely unbidden, prompted solely by a split second flash of skin. How did Regina do that to her?!

“Miss Swan…?” Regina prodded with a teasing lilt to her voice. Emma’s eyes flew up to settle on a devilish smirk. She felt herself flushing at being caught staring. “See something you like?” came Regina’s far-from-innocent reply and Emma answered her with a sound that fell somewhere between a gruff ‘humpf’ and a choked moan. Regina laughed at that, head falling back slightly to expose inviting skin that Emma’s eyes were irrevocably drawn to. Desire surged in Emma so hot and all-consuming it took all her self-control not to pull Regina into her and show Regina exactly what she did to her. Her desire felt different than it had been just a few days ago; heavier, more solid. She didn’t have time to wonder about it, however, because Regina shook her head with a merciless smirk and walked into the bathroom, giving Emma the shortest of glimpses at her bare back as she pulled the satin garment over her head before she disappeared from view.

Emma scrambled off of the bed and followed Regina into the bathroom without conscious thought. Draping herself against the doorpost, she found a grinning Regina waiting for her. _busted_ , Emma thought, but wasn’t about to admit that—or feel sorry about it. Regina didn’t look sorry either; with the sexiest look she had ever seen on the woman, Regina kept her eyes firmly on Emma’s face as her hands drew Emma’s eyes down her body. Emma felt her breath quicken and hot longing settle between her legs as Regina’s fingers—fingers she could picture in ever sexual scenario she could remember, including collating papers in her office, wrapping around coffee mugs, and other every day things that had suddenly gotten a double meaning—hooked on the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and Regina bent over to slip them off. If Regina had been wearing underwear, Emma never saw it.

As Regina straightened to her openly lustful gaze, that damned sound once more escaped Emma’s throat and Regina smirked, setting hands on narrow hips.

“Do you like what you see now?” She asked, and the low husk went straight to Emma’s core. She sagged against the doorpost, holding on to it for dear life with one whitening hand. She slowly nodded, eyes sliding from dark eyes to that perfect scar, then down to a shapely neck and perfect breasts before they ever so slowly crept down over the flat expanse of Regina’s abdomen and lingered on the minimal patch of dark curly hair that teasingly hid Regina’s sex from her. Her eyes dipped lower still to strong legs and cute feet before traveling back the same way at an even slower pace. By the time she reached Regina’s eyes again, they were on fire, and Emma could only nod in acknowledgement of the previously asked question. 

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” Regina questioned further, her voice now dripping with desire. Emma shivered, but again, she shook her head ‘yes’. The look of confusion that came over Regina’s features—and ended up mashing her desire-ridden face into something comically undefined—had Emma grinning and in control of her body enough to keep her from launching at the dark haired beauty so teasingly close.

“I’m sorry?” Regina huffed, obviously a little off-kilter from being rebuked.

“If I get any closer right now, I—” She glanced at the bedroom door to make sure it was still closed and their son was not in earshot, “I will never be able to stop myself from traumatizing Henry forever when he comes looking for us. Trust me, all I want to do is push you up against that wall behind you and eat you out, but I’m trying to do this adult parenting thing and I’m totally sure that is not in the manual.” Emma explained, her voice a little frail in the onslaught of her desire. She also couldn’t believe she had actually said the words ‘eat out’ out loud to the former Queen and Mayor. Judging by the way Regina’s eyes had widened at the picture she painted, however, Emma was quite sure Regina did not mind.

Regina loosened her stance and licked her lips subconsciously before smiling a lot more sweetly than computed with her current state of undress.

“Right answer, darling...” Regina said, her voice a lot closer to normal but still with a edge of arousal to it. “I guess I must settle for a rain check, then.” She sassed as she turned around to show off her equally perfect backside, which swayed as she walked the last few steps to the shower.

“Tell Henry I will be down in ten minutes.” Regina added airily before turning on the water and stepping into the tub. Emma ducked out of the bathroom just too late to miss the way Regina’s hair matted to her skull as she stepped under the water and how said water clung to warming skin as it rushed down.

Emma had not been this turned on—and this blue-balled—in her entire life.

She made it downstairs on wobbly limbs, trying to shake her feelings for Regina so she could talk to the son they shared without feeling like a complete pervert. She only marginally succeeded but figured it would have to do; until she could quench her thirst for the woman, this was the best it was going to get. Henry had set out an odd collection of items on the kitchen counter: an old loaf of bread, pop tarts—Regina owned pop tarts?—a carton of juice, and three plastic cups. There was also a plaid and a Frisbee, and Emma tried to picture Regina in the park with young Henry, having a pop tart picnic and laughing as one of them tossed the Frisbee into the underbrush. It wasn’t a scene she could picture very well, honestly, and that pained her.

"Hey kid, your mom will be right down. She’s taking a quick shower and then she’ll be all set. Are we packed?” She asked curiously, sitting down at the kitchen counter as she observed Henry packing his backpack with the collected items. He hummed in acknowledgement. 

“It’s been a while, but I think so…” He said thoughtfully as he observed the contents of his pack. 

“When was the last time you went?” Emma asked curiously. Henry thought a moment.

“Last Summer,” He said, “Right after the school year ended.” Henry added with a blush. It took Emma a little while to piece together why he did.

“After that, you figured out who she was…” Emma said softly and he nodded, not meeting her eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to go any more once I realized the book was real. She made me go one more time but it wasn’t fun like it used to be and I don’t think she wanted to go after… you know… the curse broke.” Henry said with a sad little shrug of his shoulders. Emma frowned.

“Why?” She asked, and Henry gave her the patented ‘really, Miss Swan?’-Mills glare.

“Because people aren’t exactly happy to see her, you know?” He said superiorly. “It’s not like mom goes anywhere unless she really, really has to.”

Emma had known that; deep down, she had known that. She’d seen Regina buy groceries before, or walk haughtily through the streets of Storybrooke, but now she thought of it, she never joined a social function unless Emma invited her—and just look how well that turned out last time—or Henry made her. She could see now how a nice stroll in the park with her son could potentially lead to an unpleasant outing with a dozen prying eyes on her, whispered words behind her back, and perhaps even a few outright nasty remarks. Not exactly a happy outing. When she had first met Regina, she had though she was a cold-hearted workaholic with trust issues; now she knew that Regina was perhaps the most emotional person she had ever met, and she didn’t even need Regina or Henry to confirm that the way she was being treated hurt her very much, especially without the Evil Queen’s anger to protect her frail heart—an emotion she had refused to draw upon more and more ever since the trigger incident, and even before.

It seemed Regina’s life might be filled with even more isolation than Emma had imagined.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Regina’s heels clicking on the floor, moving towards them. She looked perfect, dressed in her best Mayor-chique, make-up applied to perfection, hair blown out. Emma smiled at her despite a dark thought forming in the back of her mind; Regina wasn’t dressed to impress, she was dressed to protect. These clothes were her armour against the outside world—Emma could see it in the tiny worry lines on her face and the way her pleasant smile did not reach quite up to her eyes. 

“Let’s go!” Regina said chipper, avoiding Emma’s eyes as she ruffled Henry’s hair as he rushed past her. Yet, she did remain behind to wait for Emma, who crawled off of the stool intentionally slowly. Emma crossed the distance between them, eyes narrowed slightly as she inspected Regina’s body language, trying to read her—hunched up shoulders, downcast look, too still hands—before wrapping Regina up in a hug as she got close enough. It took a moment or two before Regina settled in her arms with an audible exhale and her arms came up to wrap around Emma’s waist. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Emma said into soft hair that smelled familiarly like apples. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Emma said, and again Regina stiffened. Instead of allowing Regina to get away with a defensive reaction, Emma just held her a little tighter, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. After a tense moment, Regina slumped again and burrowed into her neck a little. They stood like that for a moment until their son’s voice cut through the moment between them.

“Mom! Emma! Come on!” Regina laughed gently. 

“He gets his impatience from you.” She said darkly as she extracted herself enough to look Emma in the eye.

“The hell he does!” Emma defended herself. “That’s all you, Mayor Mills.” She added gruffly, but softened the blow with a lingering kiss to Regina’s lips. As they parted, Emma reached down to Regina’s hand and entangled their fingers. Fully extracting her body from Regina’s, she pulled her along by they hand, pausing to grab her coat and allow Regina access to hers. They smiled at each other a tad sadly as they released hands before walking out. Unfortunately, Storybrooke was not quite ready for a handholding Sherriff and ex-Mayor, and both women were very aware of that fact.


	13. Of Love And Longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh guys, I am not okay yet! The midwinter finale left me absolutely crushed. It may have impacted the chapter a little, but at least it might be a balm for the aching heart. Take care of yourself in the months to come. If you need support, find me on Tumblr under this handle.

It was a short drive to the park. Henry was staring out of the window, clutching his backpack, Regina was humming softly in the back of her throat, and Emma was lost in the normalcy of the situation, even though it was so foreign to her. Emma had never heard Regina hum a tune, but the way Henry just let the moment happen indicated to her that, at least before last Summer, Regina humming had been a relatively common occurrence. She sounded good; on pitch as far as Emma could tell, and with enough breath to complete the longer melodies. It was captivating, and Emma didn’t try to hide her stare or the soft smile that the sound evoked. It took a while for Regina to notice she was staring; Regina drove the three of them through town, not wanting to subject her son to the Bug if at all possible.

“You’re staring.” Regina said softly, cutting off her song mid-lilt.

“Yup.” Emma deadpanned with a slightly more amused smile.

“And why would that be, dear?” She asked with only a hint of the usual guardedness that Regina displayed when she was out of her element.

“Because you were humming; I have never heard you hum. I like it.” Emma surmised, reaching out to gently place a hand on Regina’s thigh. Regina covered the hand with her own instinctively and squeezed it slightly.

“I didn’t even notice until I saw you looking at me.” Regina confessed softly, glancing at Henry in the back of the car. He wasn’t paying attention to them. “I tend to hum when I’m… happy.” She admitted, chancing a quick meeting of eyes with Emma as she said this. Emma squeezed the hand in hers.

“I like you happy.” Emma said softly, her heart swelling a little.

“Me too.” Regina answered, letting go of Emma’s hand with a last squeeze as they turned into the parking lot of the park.

The three of them got out and Henry flung on his backpack, freeing his hands so he could reach out to Regina with his left and Emma with his right. 

“Come on!” he said impatiently, tugging the both of them along. “Let’s feeds the ducks first.” Over his head, Emma caught Regina’s eyes and smiled. They had done a lot of things together, the three of them, but this was their first actual outing after Regina and Emma had admitted their feelings, and neither women missed the significance of it.

A few minutes later, Emma sat as close as she dared to the dark haired woman on a park bench, watching Regina watch Henry like a hawk as he paced the water’s edge with the loaf of bread in his hands. A flock of birds had set upon him, crowding the water and the muddy ground and raising all hell. Henry was placating them with bread offerings and laughing when they nudged him for more. Regina’s awe-filled smile directed at their son drove home for Emma again just how much Regina loved Henry. He was her son by right, and by love, and she was so grateful Henry had ended up with this beautiful woman. She was even more grateful things were shaping up to indicate that she was going to be as well.

She subconsciously licked her lips and looked around her to see if anyone was close enough to notice her next move. As far as she could see, they weren’t, and so Emma wrestled her swelling feeling for Regina into a manageable stream. She hated that channeling her magic was still so hard for her. When Regina did magic, it seemed to come to her so easily, while Emma felt like she was mentally spraining something every time she was trying to make it happen—and she wasn’t even trying for fireballs this time! It was hard now, because she was going for a surprise attack, so she couldn’t give her concentration away on her face. It helped when she envisioned the magic manifesting on her fingertip; it gave her a focal point to focus on. It also helped to hear Regina’s voice in her ear, edging her own, giving her advice. Slowly—slowly—her magic settled in her projecting hand, and she glanced around her carefully once more, afraid that if she did it too fast, she would break her concentration. Regina was still focused on Henry, and so Emma slipped her right hand under her left arm and tipped her index finger into Regina’s bare hand, releasing the ball of emotions she had formed into a single blast.

Regina’s mouth fell open, her eyes widened, and her head fell back with a gasp. Emma grinned as she watched Regina struggle with the emotions bestowed upon her. Emma slowly pulled back her hand as she watched Regina straighten again and slowly turn her head, tears in her eyes.

“What was that?” She rasped, looking completely undone. 

“A kiss.” Emma said with a shit-eating grin. 

“Some kiss.” Regina rumbled breathlessly and Emma’s mouth twisted into a smirk. She was feeling very pleased with herself; judging by Regina’s frazzled appearance, her ball of love and devotion had hit its mark just wonderfully. Regina smiled at her one more time—love shining through the guardedness that Regina had adopted as soon as she had gotten out of the car—before turning back to Henry. Emma did notice she had moved just a little closer.

“How are you doing?” Emma asked, letting her eyes slip back to Henry as well. She smiled involuntarily at the display of their son running through the grass, chased by ducks. Regina was silent for a while, and Emma could practically hear her fighting her walls.

“Vulnerable.” Regina eventually admitted, voice so soft, Emma had to strain to hear it over the cacophony of quacking ducks. Emma fought herself not to take Regina’s hand to lend her some emotional support. She knew there was nothing she could say to make this situation easier for Regina, because as much as she liked to believe otherwise, there were still a lot of people very upset with the former Evil Queen and Mayor of Storybrooke. So far, the few occupants of the park had left them alone, but there had been looks of surprise and some whispered conversations. They had caused Regina to stiffen her form, and Emma to glare angrily at anyone she spotted being an ass.

“I wish I could take your hand.” Emma eventually whispered back as softly as she could, giving voice to her desires as an alternative to actually doing it.

“I will just have to use my imagination.” Regina said and Emma saw her features curl up into a momentary smile. 

“It won’t be hard with that kiss still on my mind.” Regina added and glanced at her a moment before getting up; Henry was calling for them and as always, both women came running when he did.

A few minutes later, Emma, who was standing in a triangle with Regina and their son, got her first look at Regina with a Frisbee. With deathly accuracy, Regina flung the projectile at her son, who caught it with so much skill, Emma’s jaw dropped. For a second there, she had been scared the red plastic disk was going to take Henry’s head clean off, but all thought of that faded in light of Henry’s toothy grin, and Regina’s indulgent smile at sharing this moment again. Emma suddenly felt like an intruder on this intimate moment between mother and son, but then Henry was calling her name and she had to duck to avoid being decapitated herself. She managed a rather impressive roll out of the way and was up on a knee and a foot within a second, eyes wide, face panicked. 

“The hell?!” She called out to Henry, who was caught somewhere between genuine remorse and endless laughter. 

“Take it easy on the new girl, okay?” Emma seethed, but she wasn’t so much mad as mortifyingly embarrassed. Turning to Regina, the woman was regarding her quietly, with the evilest of grins plastered to her face and her hands in her coat pockets.

“It went that way, Miss Swan.” She sassed without remorse, inclining her head to the base of a tree a good jog off. Huffing, Emma got up and did, indeed, speed to a jog to collect it, while Regina’s rich laughter met her ears, Henry’s laughter mixing in. Emma was blushing profusely at this point, but tried to remind herself that with no experience, she had actually done very well in the situation. Things could have turned out a lot worse, she mused, and she had already known this was not going to be something she was going to excel in.

Locating the disk, she picked it up and jogged back while Regina and Henry got themselves back under control. She got to her place in the triangle again and with a face set to thunder, she grabbed the Frisbee roughly, not quite sure how she was going to pull off an actual throw.

“It’s all in the hold.” Regina supplied helpfully and then made a gesture so obscene, Emma had to swallow down her desire before her brain was supplied with enough blood to realize that Regina had not just suggested what she thought she suggested but the proper way to toss a Frisbee. She molded her hand in a rather familiar gesture and wrapped it around the edge of the Frisbee.

“Now you flick your wrist.” Henry supplied helpfully, and Regina smirked, sparks in her eyes. Emma rolled her eyes but did what was asked of her. Predictably, the Frisbee took a nosedive into the grass about ninety degrees off from her attempted trajectory. While the disk had been ‘thrown’ in Regina’s direction, the older woman made no move to collect it. Her hand had slipped back into her coat pocket, and a single brow was hiked up high onto her forehead.

“It’s still on your half of the distance.” She supplied helpfully, and Emma grumbled, again jogging to retrieve the damned disk. Emma did not like this game, of that she was absolutely sure. Still, after fifteen minutes of fumbling, she actually managed to catch most of the—noticeably slowed down—tosses of both Henry and Regina, and while both her companions almost always had to run to do so, both Henry and Regina eventually managed to catch most of her tosses. Both instances said more about the skills of mother and son than Emma’s, but Emma was still proud of herself. It didn’t take long for her to get over her embarrassment and enjoy the quiet time spent with her family.

That thought alone was such a foreign one to her, it nearly cost her a lump to the head as the thought struck her, courtesy of one of Henry’s tosses that she had completely tuned out for. This, right here, could be her family if neither Emma nor Regina messed it up, and the way things were looking now, they were adamant not to do so. 

Finding her parents after wondering about them for so long had been fantastic—there were no words to describe the feeling—but the relationship with her parents was not an easy one and this morning, she had basically smuggled Henry out of the house so she wouldn’t have to face either one. She knew she was going to have to remedy the situation soon, but it was such a struggle to interact with her parents on even the good days that she wasn’t looking forward to this bad one. 

Emma threw the disk back to Henry while she mused about the marvel of being able to do so—of being included in the young boy’s life and feeling she belonged there. If she was truly honest with herself, she still had trouble picturing herself as his mom—Regina’s shoes were such epic things to fill on that front—but she would never let anything or anyone hurt the boy she had given birth to, and she loved him beyond anything. That was all that counted for now, and if she and Regina did not screw this up, she could eventually learn to be much more to him than what she was now.

“Emma! Henry!” 

Emma’s thoughts were interrupted by a male voice Emma had no intention of including in this small gathering—she was going to have pop tarts with Regina and Henry, damn it; dealing with her ex had not been in the planning.

“Neal, hey.” Emma said with a smile that never reached her eyes. She kept her voice purposefully flat. She didn’t mean to hurt Neal—she had cared about him very much at one point in her life—but she did want him out of here in a hurry. 

“Dad!” Henry brushed past her, hugging Neal, who pulled him close for a moment before just wrapping an arm around his shoulders and holding his son against him.

“Hey!” Neal answered happily. “What are you up to today?”

“Just out, playing Frisbee.” Henry chatted. “Do you want to join us?” He asked hopefully. Neal looked up at Emma and caught her murderous glance.

“Nah, I’d better not. I just came here to look for your mom.” He regarded her. “Mary Margaret called; you’re not picking up your cell phone?” he asked, shifting to a more adult tone of voice as he addressed Emma. Emma rolled her eyes empathically.

“Typical.” She mumbled under her breath. Neal’s eyes narrowed as he tried to catch the word but failed. 

“Never mind,” she corrected quickly. “I turned it off. I didn’t want to be disturbed.” She added, placing emphasis on the last word.

“Right…” Neal said, glancing behind her. Emma turned her head with his gaze and felt her heart drop at the sight of Regina a little off, trying to be interested in ducks but failing miserably. Right, that was it. Emma was shutting this conversation down fast.

“Why would she call you when I didn’t pick up?” Emma asked, trying to keep the venom out of her voice for her son’s sake. 

“She figured I might be your mystery date—” Neal answered, shrugging his shoulders. He looked a little dejected he wasn’t, indeed, her mystery love interest. Emma was seething inwardly. Neal, really? Her parents had come up with the brilliant idea that she was back together with Neal? Yeah, sure, there was a lot of history there and she would always love the man in front of her now, but Neal had gotten her pregnant and then dropped her ass in jail. He was the absolute worst person they should be pushing her towards—especially because he was still getting over the death of his fiancée and was in desperate need of a warm body to fill that void until the pain of her demise and betrayal blunted a little. She was no one’s rebound girl and she felt herself fuming at the thought that her parents had either failed to see all of this or had dismissed it in favor of a man in Emma’s life. 

“At least you’re not with _him_.” He said bitterly, and Emma realized it wasn’t a dig at Regina’s expense, but his way of addressing the one-hooked elephant in the park.

“It’s not Hook.” She said quickly, wanting to put that thought to bed. A few years ago, she would have gone after Hook in a heartbeat; he was the sexy bad boy she had always gone for… but now… and with this, she again glanced back to Regina, her eyes inevitably drawn to her too-straight form. Now, she had started growing up—looking for someone who would do right by her, not use her and leave her when the mood struck. She was sure Killian would have made an effort to be a good partner to her, but they had nothing in common, and the kiss had been a mistake—a huge one, because it had hurt Regina. She turned back after a moment and met Neal’s eyes. He was studying her, as was Henry, Emma saw, as he kept very still under his dad’s arm, trying not to draw attention to himself. She could read in his eyes that she had hit dangerous waters here, and inflated her lifejacket: annoyance.

“But even if it was, it’s not your business, or Mary Margaret’s.” She added coldly, holding out her arm for Henry, and he slipped into her embrace easily. Neal shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. 

“Right.” He said, a little awkwardly. “I should go. Call Mary Margaret, okay? She’s worried about you.” He added as he smiled at Henry, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“She doesn’t have to be.” Emma bit back and he shrugged. 

“It comes with lo—caring for you.” He added, holding back the dreaded word just before it could slip out. Emma set her jaw, and Neal shrugged.

“Talk to your parents.” He told her again before turning around and walking off. Emma released a shaky breath when he was out of earshot and squeezed Henry’s shoulder. 

“Go check up on your mom, okay?” She told him and he nodded, hurrying off. She turned around to watch Regina look up as he hurried towards her and accept a hug happily. She smiled apologetically at Regina as their eyes met over their son’s shoulder and Regina smiled back in a way that hurt more than Regina’s death glares ever had. Damn it, Mary Margaret. Damn it.

Emma slid her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it. She had put the phone to silent because she wasn’t on duty and not in the mood, but saw now she had seven missed calls and three text messages. All the calls were from Mary Margaret, as were two of the messages. The last of the messages was from David. 

“Call us, please. We’re worried.” Read the short message. Emma sighed, now definitely feeling a little guilty. She selected her mother’s number and put the phone to her ear, listening to it ring once, twice, before she heard her mother’s voice. It was a rush of air, wrapped around her name, in relief.

“Emma. Thank you for calling us back. We—I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. Please, can we talk?” Mary Margaret rushed out, obviously afraid Emma was going to hang up and wanting to get the message out before she could. Emma’s anger faded a little at the declaration.

“Sure.” She said in resignation. “Give me half an hour to wrap up here and I’ll come over.” She added, leaving her current location and company purposefully vague.

“Of course, take your time. Thank you.” Mary Margaret added, and Emma nodded subconsciously.

“See you soon.” She said neutrally and ended the call. She took a second to collect herself and turned around to find Regina and Henry talking in the distance, Regina’s eyes flickering towards her almost as soon as she laid eyes on Regina’s form. With a sigh, Emma headed over, the wetness in the grass feeling much like her heart at the moment—a sucking void at the thought of leaving Regina to talk to her parents.

“Everything alright?” Regina asked, and the lacing of venom that only came out in Regina’s insecure moments did not escape Emma.

“Yeah. Neal was on a mission from Mary Margaret.” Emma said soothingly, not taking the bait and wishing she could speak more freely. She regrettably held back her words and emotions in front of Henry and due to the fact that they were in a very public park. 

“We haven’t spoken since last night and she and David and were worried.” Emma added. Regina’s dark eyes dug into her own and she tried to convey that nothing had changed, that she was sorry about Neal, about her parents, that there was no reason to get insecure. She wasn’t sure what was going on in Regina’s head, but it wasn’t pretty. Swallowing, Emma put on a brave smile, for Henry’s sake.

“How about we compress our outing a little and skip straight to the pop tarts?” Emma asked merrily, fighting against the knot in her stomach. “After that, I promised I would talk to Mary Margaret. You guys can stay here if you want, I—” 

“No!” Regina said, too loudly, and too quickly. Emma realized that the thought of being in the park without Emma—hopefully without Emma’s comforting and protective presence, Emma thought—was very unappealing to Regina.

“Okay, we’ll go home first and…” Emma realized what she had said a moment too late, and was met by Henry’s excited grin and Regina’s shocked expression a second before her words sunk in. Immediately, Emma back paddled. “I mean—your home—I don’t mean, I—”

“Emma,” Regina cut her off. “It’s alright. I—” Regina glanced down at Henry and pulled him a little tighter into her. “We would be honored if you considered the mansion home, even if you don’t live there.” The unspoken word hung heavily between them, and lingered in the shy smile Regina gifted her with. _Yet._

Emma couldn’t process all of this right now. She was trying to steel herself for her meeting with her mother, and the promises of forever that suddenly slipped into the undercurrent of this conversation were simply too much to deal with right now. She was silent a long moment as her eyes shifted between Regina and their son, and then she cleared her throat.

“Okay, pop tarts?” She said, horrified by the way her voice broke with emotion and was entirely too high to begin with. Regina’s features softened while Henry grinned. Emma took a deep breath of air. For a lost girl, she was doing a damn good job of finding people who wanted to be with her, Emma mused, and as Henry grabbed the hands of both his moms again to lead them to the bench, Emma imagined holding Regina’s hand instead. By the way Regina was looking down at the ground with a soft smile on her face, she might be too, and that thought alone gave Emma enough strength to face her parents head on. With Regina’s happiness at stake, she was not going to back down anymore. Regina was worth fighting for; their family was worth fighting for, and her parents would do well to realize that sooner rather than later.


	14. Come What May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to Maître Gims' 'J'me tire', because of the delicious anger in that song--not because of the lyrics.

For a second Emma felt like she should knock on the door of her own home and be let in. She decided against it because it would set the wrong tone for the conversation ahead, but it was telling of the level of _wrong_ she felt about her current predicament. Emma settled on an in-between; she made a little too much noise getting her key in the lock and turning it, hoping it would act as the advanced warning system she needed right now.

When she came in, Mary Margaret was in the kitchen, and David had obviously just gotten up from the love seat. Mary Margaret smiled at her a tad awkwardly and Emma returned the gesture before shutting the door behind her and locking it. It felt very final to do so, and while it made her more nervous, it also calmed her fight or flight reflexes. She was here, and she was going to do this, for Regina, for Henry, and most of all for herself.

“I thought we could sit at the table.” Mary Margaret suggested and Emma nodded, waiting for David to sit before sitting down one seat over from him across the table. Mary Margaret sat down a tray of tea utilities and sat down opposite her. As her mother made her tea—strong, two sugars, tiny cloud of milk—Emma mused that she should feel uncomfortable or outnumbered in the set-up she had gotten herself into, but she didn't. She had been running away from her parents for a long time now, and it was time to stop.

Her hands wrapped around the mug bestowed upon her instinctively and in a way that reminded her of Regina's actions just this morning. She smiled at the memory and Mary Margaret—completely misinterpreting her reason for smiling—smiled back. Time passed quietly as Mary Margaret prepared tea for her and her husband and Emma hid herself behind her mug. The warmth was comforting, but it did not make the situation easier.

“Thank you for sitting down with us, Emma.” David started, and Emma knew right away that her parents had had a long discussion about this conversation in advance. Now she did feel a little outnumbered; with the thirty minute warning, she hadn’t gotten much processing in, and her gut was doing that thing it did when she was nervous and out of her element: knot up and make her fidgety and defensive.

“We know that you… must have some things you want to talk to us about and I want to tell you that we are ready to listen. We won’t judge you, and we hope you will not judge us.” David added, laying down the ground rules for this little talk, and Emma had to keep from rolling her eyes. Yes, she had wanted a talk like this, but she had wanted it at least a month ago—because this wasn’t just about Regina, this was about her and her parents. Most of all, this was about the new baby that Emma hadn’t heard announced yet but was sure was in the works. 

Emma nodded, not trusting her voice in the turmoil of her emotions; she had never been too good at analyzing what she was feeling and preferred to stuff her emotions away. She was not going to be able to do that today; just like Regina opening up to her had left the woman vulnerable, Emma felt vulnerable too. Instead of withdrawing into a protective and sassy shell like Regina, though, Emma flicked the self-destruct on her relationship with her parents… because she was angry, because she didn’t deserve good things, because if her parents wanted an ‘out’ of being her parents, she could provide that easily.

“I’m sleeping with Regina.”

The silence was deafening after Emma’s strong and emotionally void expression. David processed the information silently while Mary Margaret gasped and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Tears formed in her mother’s eyes as Emma sat back unmoved, hands still around her cup, thoughts on Regina while she waited for her parents to turn her away like everyone always turned her away. Seconds ticked away as Emma waited, heart in her throat and tears pricking against the back of her eyes.

“I’m not surprised.”

Emma’s eyes flew to David, who met her eyes with pained love that only a dad could display. No, he wasn’t happy, but he had seen it coming. Emma’s bullshit detector—the one that had been faulty for the last few months but which was tied to her insecurities in such a way that she trusted it now—did not go off.

“David!” Mary Margaret was at the edge of hysteria. David’s arm wrapped around her but she shook it off, standing and moving a bit off, back turned to her daughter and husband. Emma waited while David gave her a small tight-lipped smile of reassurance. It took a while for her mother to turn around, but when she did, the shock had melted away into anger and conviction. Mary Margaret was at her chair in a few strides and kneeled down, reaching for Emma’s hand which Emma did not give up, so Mary Margaret settled on letting her hand rest over Emma’s on the mug in her lap.

“Emma, honey, listen to me. Regina… Regina is dangerous. She will hurt you eventually—she already has! She tried to curse you and almost ended up killing Henry. She is evil, Emma. You weren’t there in the Kingdom; you never saw what she is capable of. She was supposed to be my mother, I needed her, and she wasn’t there. She tried to kill me over and over. She forced us to give you up. Eventually, she will hurt you, and Henry, and—”

Emma had listened patiently, feeling the anger and bile rise in her with every word her pixie-haired mother spoke. She couldn’t deny anything Mary Margaret had said, but as soon as her mother dragged Henry into the conversation—Henry, for whom Regina would give up her life, her happiness, her redemption in a heartbeat—something snapped in Emma.

“No!” Emma angrily pushed herself up from the chair, forcefully freeing her body from the table and her mother’s grasp. She slammed the mug down on the table as tears threatened to spill and this time, she was sure she wasn't going to be able to hold them in.

“No!” She repeated more forcefully. "You don't get to say that! Not anymore; not after Neverland!" 

Her voice was climbing, and she was gesturing wildly as she spoke. All the anger and pain that had crushed down upon her after Mary Margaret's confession in Neverland bubbled to the surface in the wake of this portrayal of 'parenthood'; she had seen parenthood now—in Regina—and while the woman was most certainly not flawless, she had taught Emma one huge thing about being a mom: when you became a parent, you put your child's happiness before your own. Suddenly this wasn’t about Regina anymore; it was about being a parent to a child who needed you.

“You abandoned me; not just when I was a baby but now; you are getting a nursery ready! My little brother or sister will have the mobile above his or her bed that was supposed to be above mine! I know you guys love me but—” She faltered in the face of Mary Margaret’s wide eyes and tears, but she felt she would explode if she didn't get this out now, if she did not remove this load from her chest where it was slowly squeezing the breath out of her lungs and leaving nothing behind for her to survive on.

“…you are replacing me with a tiny little baby you _will_ be able to see grow up and who you _can_ mother over. And here I was thinking we were slowly getting better, that above all else, you wanted to be there for the daughter you already have but you don't! You just want another chance and where does that leave me?!” Emma was crying now, sobbing actually, and Mary Margaret was crying as well and looking at her with such heartbreak that she couldn't breathe, couldn't stop, couldn’t process what was happening to her. Everything just fucking hurt, and her whole body throbbed, and she was not okay; her whole life she had felt abandoned by her parents and it had hurt. It had hurt so badly, but not like this. This was worse.

She saw it in David's eyes first; pain turning into fear as he slowly lifted himself off of his chair, one hand raised towards her in the universal symbol for ‘stop’, and then she heard Mary Margaret's audible gasp as her sobs halted abruptly and she scrambled back into a standing position, her eyes going wide and focusing on her, but not her face.

“Emma...?” David's voice narrowed on dangerous but was mostly a warning. Emma's heart was pounding in her ears, blood rushing through her system along with something else—something much more powerful. 

“Emma!”

“What?!” She questioned through clenched teeth. David inclined his head cautiously to something on her right side and she turned her head to check. Wide-eyed, she gasped as she found her hand encased by a raging ball of fire that she could now feel the heat come off of. All her pain and anger, her fears and insecurities, all of her emotions had not just poured out of her like she had practiced with Regina, but had transmuted into the very thing Regina had been trying to teach her. Regina had been right; it wasn't all that much different. Anger made it easier. 

Her parents were still looking at her, she realized, but they were momentarily forgotten as Emma analyzed her magic, the way this felt, how her treacherous body was behaving. Then, with a forceful squeeze of her hand, she snuffed out the fire easily. She had seen Regina do it, and losing her concentration had never been hard for Emma. The scent of magic still hung strongly in the air as Emma inspected her hand and allowed a small smile to ghost her lips: she had done it, all on her own, and now she knew what it took. Regina would be so proud.

“Oh Emma...”

Mary Margaret was sobbing again, and this time it didn't feel to Emma like it was out of guilt and regret. Her parents had found each other again and were squeezing each other's hand so hard, their knuckles had turned white. They were afraid; heartbroken at the sight of their daughter imitating the Evil Queen. Emma now understood how powerful magic made you feel, how dangerous it was—and how hard to control. Yet unlike Regina, she had a mentor who would not steer her towards the darkness; Regina would do anything in her power to keep her on the side of good. Emma was sure of this and craved her guidance now more than ever. The buzz magic—real magic—had left her with was euphoric and fading, and she wanted more of it. Shaking her head, she lowered her arms to her sides and fixed her parents with a look that basically conveyed ‘don't fuck with me right now’. David gulped. Emma stepped forward to take her seat again and her parents froze.

“Don't worry,” Emma said dryly. “I have no intention of using more magic.”

Her parents did not look comforted, but they did sit down.

“I-we knew you were... practicing... we didn't know you could... do that. Already.” Mary Margaret's voice was small and pained.

“Surprise.” Emma said bitterly, still too pissed off to be considerate, but more aware of her actions now. She had not meant to use magic at all, but she had to come to grips with the fact that magic was emotion and that—underneath it all—her magic was quite powerful if she allowed herself to really _feel_. She needed Regina, needed to process this, test it, get used to it. The longing to feel that powerful again when her entire life had been one powerless void was so great that even Emma recognized the warning signs. She wasn’t going to tell her parents that, though. She was saving that for Regina, who—with her background—would understand.

“So, how about we get back to the no judging part?” Emma said humorlessly, and her parents were silent, Mary Margaret apparently having forgotten she was mad at David for picking Emma’s side and settling into him. David just looked at Emma as he struggled with his thoughts. Time passed horribly slowly. 

“How long have you two been…” Mary Margaret couldn’t finish the sentence and looked down.

“Having sex?” Emma supplied with more glee than she should. “About eight months, but spoken feelings only became a thing a little less than two weeks ago.” She said bluntly, and Now David was shocked. Mary Margaret only looked hurt.

“What…? You never said… not even before the curse ended.”

Emma shrugged. She had wanted to tell Mary Margaret, but it was obvious the other woman didn’t like Regina—was petrified of her, actually—and she had needed a friend. Besides, it had just been angry, confusing, mind blowing, sex then. There was nothing to talk about that Mary Margaret would have been able to stomach without judging. If there had been love then, Mary Margaret would have gotten over her shock, but brutal sexual encounters she walked away from with bruises and sore lungs? That was not Mary Margaret’s forte.

“The old Mary Margaret wouldn’t have understood.” Emma said, making the subconscious point that this Mary Margaret had better understand. 

“She was a hopeless romantic and what Regina and I had back then was anything but. It was brutal and wrong, and yet it kept happening. I needed that then, and so did she. I never told you—the old you—because I wanted to be your friend.” She said, unafraid to speak of the subject now the worst of it was over—almost over, anyway. David looked vaguely uncomfortable at the thought of his daughter having brutal sex with the Mayor, but he was silent, regardless. Embolden, Emma continued.

“Over the months our feelings changed… I realized how deeply she loves—feels everything—and how grateful I am towards her for taking care of Henry when I couldn’t. When we were… together—” Emma spared her parents another mention of sex.

“…we could both just… be ourselves for a little while. It made everything harder in the time between but… when we were together, we were glorious.” Emma confessed and she caught David smiling at her despite himself.

“Thursday last week, Regina and I had a huge fight because… well… let’s just say we needed to hash some things out.” Emma admitted, smiling and shaking her head subconsciously at the same time at the memories.

“That’s why you came home with blood on your shirt.” Mary Margaret said, her voice calmer, but still dark and pain-filled.

“Yeah, that was an accident, though.” Emma answered, ending that discussion before it even began. 

“The day after, we talked and we decided to give this a chance. I know you have all these bad memories of her and I know that you judge her for what happened but Regina is no longer the Evil Queen; she hasn’t been for a long time now. She never lost her memories like you did; she had twenty-eight years to process her life. With Henry, she finally got something right, and after that she has only ever asked for chances to prove herself.” Emma was pleading more than explaining at this point but it didn’t matter. She needed her parents to understand, even though she knew she was missing too many puzzle pieces to make them. Her parents looked doubtful at best, but David squeezed Mary Margaret’s hand and the woman exhaled. 

“We promised we would not judge you, so we won’t. We will… talk about this again; with you and with Regina. You are still our daughter and even though you think we don’t feel that means anything, it does, and as such, we get to talk to the… woman… who you say you have developed feelings for.” Mary Margaret reasoned logically, her voice back to false positive and Emma rolled her eyes. She really, really, hated passive-aggressive Mary Margaret. It was the worst side of her mother by far. Still, this was a better outcome than Emma had dared to hope for and while the shit storm would undoubtedly come later, for now, the truth was out and Emma’s world hadn’t imploded.

“Fine,” she conceded. It was only fair to give her parents some time to process this bombshell. 

“Good.” Mary Margaret said, and then there was silence. There was another elephant in the room, which had been snowed under by the fireworks display, but was no less real, regardless. None of the parties in the small apartment—which felt especially cramped tonight—knew how to get back to that outburst, however, so they sat for a while, each in their own thoughts. Eventually, Emma reached for a cookie and sighed.

“I know you love me. That’s not the issue.” She spoke softly as she dunked her cookie in the cooling tea. Mary Margaret’s lips set into a thin line and David pulled her a little closer. 

“The issue is that I get that you are hurting about what happened and that I get you want another kid to have your happy ending but… you know… I’m here too. I’m your kid too, even though I’m a little—you know—damaged and stand-offish, and am sleeping with someone you hate—” she had meant that as a joke to lighten the mood, but no one laughed and the atmosphere felt ten times as oppressive. 

“Fine, whatever.” She said with a healthy eye-roll. “Point is, I might not know what to do with parents, but all my life I have never wanted to have anything but parents who love me. And I was pissed off that you had given me up, and pissed off that I had to figure life out all on my own, and I needed you to fight for me just a little more than you have so I knew you weren’t going to go anywhere. But you did go; you are running right towards a new baby, a chance to have someone who does not have all my shit to deal with. It hurts, because… because the Evil Queen didn’t give you a choice before, but you had one now… and you chose someone else. You chose to start again, with me in the wings, looking on at your happy life together, always wishing that had been me.” Emma monologued calmly; not bothering to stop the tears from falling a she busied her eyes and hands by making the cookie dissolve completely in the tea water. Mary Margaret did that head tilt she did when her heart broke.

“Emma that’s not… we’re not replacing you. I just… We had you and we had to let you go. When we got our memories back, you had found us, but you had grown up all on your own. It wasn’t fair and yes, I hate Regina for what she did to us—for taking you away from us most of all and for doing it again now.” Emma opened her mouth to speak but Mary Margaret held up her hands apologetically as tears dripped down her face, and Emma shut her mouth to wait it out. Her little emotionally fueled magical outburst had left her more tired than she had thought now the adrenaline wore off and she was tired of fighting. 

“I’m sorry.” Mary Margaret verbalized. “We promised you we would not judge. I am just… that’s how it feels.” She added, hand over her heart, and Emma nodded, too tired to go another round. 

“We want you in our life more than anything. You are our daughter, and neither one of us could ever see you as anything different. We just want another chance to care for a child who is young enough to need us.” Mary Margaret said struggling with her words and Emma wanted to scream _’I need you too!_ , but decided against it. 

“You do realize that is the exact definition of replacing me, right?” She deadpanned and no one corrected her on the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be judging her parents either. 

“That is not what I meant.” Mary Margaret voiced miserably. Emma nodded and looked at David, whose eyes had been moving between his wife and his daughter for the entire exchange.

“How about you?” Emma asked gruffly, still not holding back her judgment. David’s worried expression broke into a soft smile.

“You will always be my daughter, Emma, and I will always be here for you. I will teach you everything I know, hold you whenever you need me, and support you in anything you do. That will never change, not with a new baby, not because of… Regina. Nothing can change that.” His eyes were sincere and Emma nodded, tears once more springing from her eyes and Emma gave up wondering if tears had an ending supply, because she had been crying so much the last week or so, she was quite sure now that tears were in fact endless. She didn’t want to admit it, but David’s few short sentences had meant more to her than she would ever be able to convey; they did not, however, take away the bitterness at the mere thought of her upcoming brother or sister.

Silence fell again and Emma swirled the ruined tea in her cup. She watched chunks of cookie surface through the milk and tried to process what had just happened. She couldn’t; she was too tired, too exposed. Her mind refused to budge in light of the emotional rollercoaster ride she had just undertaken with her parents.

She jumped when David’s hand landed gently on her hand around the cup still on the table. She met his eyes and smiled despite herself—a watery affair that was painful and left her feeling young and inexperienced in life. David smiled back unfalteringly, and when she looked over at Mary Margaret, her mother smiled as well—not quite up to her eyes, but she made an effort. Emma reached out her hand to her as a peace offering and Mary Margaret took it. They sat like that for a while, holding hands over the table and trying to adjust to the events of the last hour or so. Emma felt raw and ripped open, but she also felt lighter—as if part of the darkness that continually clouded her heart had been pulled out through her chest. There was a lot left to talk about, but Emma didn’t know how, and right now she did not want to even if she did. These were her parents and they were far from flawless… but they were hers, and they loved her. 

She hadn’t been lying when she had told them that the love of her parents was all she had ever wanted as a child and now she had it, she didn’t really want to give it up even though she was hurting. She would stay stuck in limbo with them for a while longer if the alternative was to be without parents again. They were her family, too.


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to Florence + the Machine's 'What The Water Gave Us'; not suitable for work (unless you are sneaky about it)!

Regina practically tore the door off the hinges when knuckles rapped on it. She swallowed before letting out a shaky breath as she saw Emma’s slightly disheveled form. Her eyes were puffy, her posture insecure, but she was here and just like that Regina’s worries melted away. Of course Emma came back to her, of course she was alright, of course they were. Emma gave her a watery smile and licked her lips.

“Mind if I come in?” She asked, running her eyes over Regina’s face to gauge her mood. Regina stepped aside quickly, never meaning to block the blonde from entering. Emma stepped inside and Regina shut the door behind her, nerves still fluttering in her stomach, and her insecurities at Emma’s talk with her parents still alive and well. Why wouldn’t they be? It wasn’t as if Mary Margaret and David were her greatest fans and if anyone could change Emma’s mind about Regina, it were them. 

Regina had managed to talk herself into quite a frenzy after Emma had left for her parents, leaving her in her hallway to savour a kiss she had begun to fear might be their last. She had faith in Emma and in them as a… couple, but Regina was unused to being loved, and she was still feeling a little fragile from yesterday’s events and the park. Neal showing up had done nothing to ease her issues—there was no point denying she feared Emma’s return to heterosexuality. 

“How did it go?” Her voice was blissfully neutral, Regina realized and she gave silent thanks to all the frustrating budgeting meetings she had been forced to endure in her time as Mayor; she had learned how to keep her emotions out of her voice if she really tried to. Turning to Emma, she found her a step away, hands in her pockets, looking about the hallway in a daze. Something was definitely wrong, and a different kind of acid spread throughout her body effortlessly.

“Where’s Henry?” The blonde asked, avoiding the question for the moment.

“With the Darlings. John called; they are taking Nana—the puppy—to the forest for the first time and they asked Henry to come along. They picked him up about an hour ago and he will be staying there for the night. I thought—if you were coming back here—you would like to have the privacy to talk.” Regina answered, her voice now, indeed, faltering. This seemed to shake Emma out of the shell-shocked state she had been in at least long enough to register Regina’s distress. Dislodging her hands from her pockets, she closed the distance between them and reached for Regina’s hands, holding them as her thumbs ran slow circles on the backs.

“Of course I came back here,” Emma said vehemently, voice rough with emotion. “I came as soon as I could. Regina—” Now it was Emma’s turn to falter and look away. Regina missed Emma’s beautiful green eyes the second they left hers. What had happened with Emma’s parents that Emma had to steel herself to say? Regina squeezed the hands below her, embolden by her lover’s words, but mostly just wanting to get this over with.

“Talk to me.” She encouraged, trying to capture Emma’s eyes again. Emma eventually met and held them as she whispered out five words that stopped Regina’s heart.

“I told them… about us.”

“What…?” Regina asked incredulously, her soft grip turning vice-like as her heart soared in love, then plummeted in fear. “You… what did you tell them?” she asked, trying for comforting, but landing closer to panic.

“I told them that… we’re sleeping together, that… I have feelings for you… that we are glorious together.” Emma confessed, blushing through the sheet of white that came with being emotionally spent. 

“You told them _that_?” Regina asked, and if she had gone for sass, she had failed. Regina didn’t know if she had gone for sass. This was not what she had expected Emma to have done; she had gone there to talk about Regina’s influence on her life and to maybe talk about some of the issues the collective Charming family was actively trying to avoid talking about, but Regina hadn’t even considered Emma would come clean to her parents about bedding the Evil Queen. Whatever was between them was still so undefined, so frail in all its beauty, that they hadn’t even labeled it themselves. Regina’s mind refused to wrap around the thought that now Emma’s parents knew that they were _together_ , that they were having a go at making whatever it was between them work for the long haul—that Emma was confident enough about the long haul to share ‘them’ with her parents.

“I did.” Emma said, and now there was a tired grin on the blonde’s features. Just the sight of it fractured the tense moment between them and Regina dropped the hands in hers, flinging herself into Emma, whose strong arms wrapped around her back and whose head burrowed into her neck, breathing in deeply as Regina held her close. They stood like that for a few moments, soaking in each other, feeling insecurities dissolve in the face of another step forward that could not be undone. Now it wasn’t just the three of them who knew about it anymore, it was suddenly more real, more final, and Regina realized that that was exactly what she wanted.

“I love you.” She breathed tenderly, and Emma pulled her closer, mumbling the words back to her in the crook of her neck. Regina smirked at the gesture but planted a kiss in Emma’s hair and left it at that. Pulling back a little, she took Emma’s hand and guided her to the couch in her living room. Setting her down, she took a spot close to her and pulled her legs up so her knees touched Emma’s leg and she could brush a strand of hair from Emma’s face; Emma who was staring dead ahead, still lost in her own world. She studied the woman intently, still very worried for the blonde sheriff who was obviously hurting but who had seemed to shut herself down completely in the light of recent events. Still, it warmed Regina’s heart that Emma had come to her despite her struggle with her emotions.

“How did they react?” Regina pressed lightly. Emma shrugged, but a smile tugged at her lips fleetingly at the memory.

“Mary Margaret pretty much lost it, but David said he wasn’t surprised. It was all a bit awkward and heated, but that was mostly because of the fireball I almost hurled at their heads.” Emma told her casually, then turned her head to give her a mischievous smile which lighted up her eyes. Regina’s mind took a moment to process this information.

“Wait… you made a fireball? And then almost _threw it at them?_ Emma!” She called out sharply, her voice a mixture of surprise and excitement—with a bit of righteous glee mixed in. Emma bit her lip guiltily without actual remorse.

“I did make a fireball, but in all honesty, there was no hurling. It freaked my parents the fuck out, though. You should have seen their faces!” Emma was grinning openly now, obviously not over the experience. Then her face sobered and she reached for Regina’s hand, pulling it into her lap. The cocky Emma Regina knew so well and had been happy to see return a little faded away in a new onslaught of the emotions that had surrounded Emma since well before she showed up on her doorstep, and Regina begun to understand them in light of the new information provided for her. The acid spread again, and intensified when Emma spoke.

“Regina… I didn’t mean to make that fireball. I just got so… angry, it happened. I can’t have that. You’ll… help me, right? Keep it under control? Help me deal with… how it feels…?” Emma’s eyes were pleading orbs of tearful emotion—number one amongst them insecurity, but fear a close second. Regina covered the hand holding hers with her free hand.

“I promise.” She said solemnly, smiling lightly and meaning it. “We’ll work on your emotional control, and we’ll talk about the way it makes you want more, delve deeper for more power. Magic comes with a price, Emma, but you will not be paying the one I paid. I will make absolutely sure of that.”

Emma smiled at her at that, letting herself believe it for a second, even though there was doubt in her eyes. Still holding hands, Regina leaned forward and brushed her lips softly over Emma’s, who sighed at the contact. Emma was teetering on the edge of overwhelmed, Regina realized—the talk with her parents must have been quite the event and magic had a way of clouding your mind, of making you care about magic only; consequences be damned. The way Emma squeezed her hand at the way Regina merely brushed her lips was enough for Regina to realize the extent of Emma’s fractured mind and shot emotions. She had felt this—she knew how painful magic could be and how tainted it left you even after a single use. The feeling became commonplace soon enough, but until it did, it was overwhelming and after the first time, you were never completely the same. Regina certainly had not been. In her case, though, only Rumpelstiltskin had been there to bring her back down—and he hadn’t. He had pushed her onwards, soaking her brain with magic, and starting her slow descent into oblivion. She would not do that to Emma, and that was why they had been practicing; she had wanted to be there for the first time to talk her through the experience. That, sadly, had not happened.

Pressing her lips tighter against Emma’s, she felt Emma shiver under her and heard her moan deeply; Emma’s walls were destroyed in the light of today’s events and—hopefully—the safety and acceptance she found in Regina. Regina longed to give the younger woman another form of pleasure which would drown out the high magic gave you, and fill the void it left behind. They had always been able to relate through sex, and Emma’s disproportional reaction to the mild physical contact they had just shared was telling enough. It took only a small tug to Emma’s hand for the woman to slide onto her lap, straddling her legs, and large green eyes pleaded Regina to make all of this go away, to make her stop feeling—or perhaps feel only the things that she understood and could deal with right now. Regina doubted Emma herself knew what she needed in this moment. 

Running her hand up Emma’s arm, she cupped the side of her face and studied her intently. Emma had never looked so young as she did now, and there was no pretence of being alright. Emma was not alright; she was scared and overwhelmed, and dealing with what Regina could only describe as withdrawal. Yet, she was here, and she was panting slightly, and her gaze kept dropping to Regina’s lips and that alone was all the permission Regina needed. Where she had always needed Emma to say it—say she wanted her, needed her—Regina now knew it instinctively. 

“Regina…” Emma whispered brokenly, and Regina pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“I got you…” she whispered gently but adamantly before she claimed Emma’s lips with her own again, encircling the blonde on her lap in a tight embrace as Emma’s hands wound in her hair. A sob tore from Emma’s lips as they parted and before Regina could pull back even a little, Emma’s mouth was on hers again, kissing her breathlessly, tongue begging access to Regina’s mouth. This time it was Regina’s turn to shiver and moan, and she parted her lips willingly. They kissed deeply, Regina meeting Emma’s desperation with a gentle passion she hoped was reassuring. As Emma’s hold on her hair intensified, however, she realized Emma needed more—more than gentleness. Emma needed to _feel_. To be overwhelmed by something else—something better. To be completely in her body, and not lost in the limbo of magic and emotional family issues.

Regina groaned as she crushed her lips onto Emma’s, trying to convey all of her emotions and desire for the blonde in a single kiss—which stretched out into a second, a third, a fourth—before she pulled back and met Emma’s darkened eyes. Emma was panting, pleading her with her eyes. She couldn’t voice what she needed, but she could express it perfectly. Regina smiled and nodded, pushing at Emma’s legs to get her to stand up. She would give Emma everything she needed, but not here. She wanted the space to move, the privacy to do so, and the comfort of a soft bed close by.

Emma followed her wordlessly, trembling and wide-eyed, and did not resist when Regina closed the bedroom door behind her. She didn’t resist when Regina undressed her and then herself. She didn’t resist when Regina guided her into the bathroom and waited wordlessly as Regina adjusted the temperature of the shower water. Emma had withdrawn into herself even more than she had already done, unable to cope with her emotions. Regina felt her pain; she had the memories of yesterday’s events burned into her mind, and years upon years of bad memories on top of that. It broke her heart to see Emma—strong, private, confused, Emma—so lost.

As Emma stepped into the stream, she moaned, and Regina smiled lightly as she joined her, rejoicing in the small victory of breaking through Emma’s renewed walls. She pushed her body into Emma’s back and encircling her with her arms as the hot water ran down Emma’s body, still trembling, still overwhelmed. Perhaps the reality of today was only just now kicking in, Regina thought, as Emma let her head fall back on Regina’s shoulder and her hands came up to squeeze Regina’s tightly. They stood like that for a moment before Emma turned around and captured her lips in a bruising kiss. Regina steadied them in the slippery tub and kissed back with as much passion as she could place in a single kiss. Although her instincts told her to be gentle, to love Emma the way she wanted to love the blonde, she reminded herself that Emma did not want that right now. She pulled Emma closer and raked her nails down the sensitive skin of Emma’s back, causing her to moan deeply and fist Regina’s wet hair so she could pull her closer. Regina ignored the pain and brought her hands up to cup Emma’s face, taking control of the kiss while Emma held on for dear life, sobbing into the kiss as her tears were washed away by the water that rushed over them. 

“Make me feel…” Emma pleaded, and Regina swallowed against the tightness in her throat.

Emma’s back hit the cold tiles and she gasped before Regina plastered herself against her, forcing her harder into the cold that shocked Emma’s body into reacting. Emma’s nails dug into her arms, her back. They were back to basics here, with a desire to hurt, to consume, to take the pleasure they needed—but Regina realized that they would never _truly_ go back there. Too much had happened and as she dropped her head to suck in a nipple before biting down without remorse, she knew she would never be able to appear unaffected by Emma again. She soothed the ache she had provided with her tongue while Emma forced her harder into her chest. She sucked deeply, moaning around the hard nub in her mouth and hearing Emma gasp and groan while nails dug into her scalp. 

“Yessss…” Emma hissed, and Regina bit down again, causing Emma’s legs to buckle under the onslaught of sensations. Steam encircled them as Regina forcefully held Emma upright, one arm around her lower back, her body pressed against her. Emma’s hands left her hair and wrapped around her neck, pulling her close. They kissed again, and it was all tongue, and teeth, and salty tears that mingled with spit and water. They weren’t pretty together now, but they were—indeed—glorious. They were real and sloppy, and Emma was still shaking violently in her arms, her eyes permanently closed, spooked into her own little world, now invaded with even more sensation to an already shot system. Regina reminded herself Emma needed this—to be taken, to have her choice taken away for a moment in a desire to just feel and not think.

They stood together, water rushing over them, kissing open-mouthed and desperately while Regina forced her free hand between Emma’s legs. Emma made room for her right away and rested more of her weight on Regina’s already screaming body. It didn’t matter; Regina wouldn’t let her fall, would never give up the hold she had even if it was the last thing she did. Instead, she kissed her so hard, Emma’s head crushed into the tile work as fingers slipped through thick wetness that guided her effortlessly to where Emma needed her most. With a skilful twist of her wrist, Regina pushed two fingers deeply inside her lover. Emma sobbed, eyes flying open a moment to reveal deep darkness filled with desire and desperation. 

Regina pulled out the barest minimum to induce friction before pushing back inside her, and Emma’s eyes closed again as she rode the feelings Regina coaxed out of her. Regina swallowed heavily as she studied Emma a moment, wondering what the other woman needed from her. She seemed to need only this, though, and Regina could provide _this_ , even though it broke her heart just a little.

Emma did not last long. Her hips were moving to meet every thrust even though she was wedged between a warming wall and Regina’s burning body, and Regina was not holding back anything. She let Emma take from her what she needed, roughly suckling and biting her neck, her lips, her tongue, while she held them both up and built a harder and faster rhythm with every thrust. Emma was still sobbing, still clinging to her, still not holding herself up, but she was coming violently for her—silently, shockingly, shattering and rebuilding in Regina’s arms. Afterwards, she clung to Regina who held her up and kissed her neck, her cheek, her hair—anywhere she could get access to. She whispered sweet promises into the steady stream that still poured down upon them. She told Emma she had her, that she was safe, that she was loved. That what she was feeling now was perfectly alright and that Regina would do anything and everything to make her feel better. She promised her it would not always feel this way.

Emma lifted her head slowly, resting it against the tiles, and when she opened her eyes, the panic and desperation had been replaced by an unfocussed expression of numbed tiredness. It did nothing to ease the acidity in Regina’s gut. Emma’s mouth hinted at a smile but Regina was not satisfied with the way Emma was still shocked into her own world. She leaned in to kiss her lightly and they kissed until Emma melted under her, becoming pliable once more under Regina’s soft touches. She pulled her fingers out of Emma’s core and Emma shivered. Reaching out, Regina shut down the water and extracted herself until Emma stood on her own. Stepping out of the tub, she helped a silent Emma do the same and took her hand to guide their drenched bodies to the bedroom.

This time, Regina covered Emma’s body with her own on the bed and slid down with soft and gentle touches that Emma reacted to with soft moans and light gasps. By the time she parted Emma’s legs so she could taste her blonde lover, Emma was pleading her to touch her. Regina swallowed against the tightness in her throat and reached out with her tongue tentatively, immediately overwhelmed with the smell, the taste, and the feel of her younger lover. She was gentle this time, refusing to instil more punishment upon the woman she loved, and Emma allowed her. She was choking back sobs now, hands in Regina’s hair in a way that was controlling but not overtly so. 

She let Regina set her own rhythm and pace and Regina took her time. Her hands slid over Emma’s drying skin, urging her to feel the love in the touch. She licked her core gently, desperate to convey her devotion. She sucked gently on Emma’s clitoris, causing Emma to jump and open her eyes to watch her. Regina moaned as the green orbs settled on her and Emma groaned in response. They watched each other as Regina flicked her tongue over Emma’s clit again and again, pressing her lips around the hooded ball of nerves until she saw something give way in Emma and the numbness faded from her eyes. With a gasp, Emma shot up and Regina met her mouth in a mad scramble as she cupped Emma’s sex and pressed a finger inside her to coax more feeling out of the moment.

“Gina… Gina…” Emma whispered the shortened version of her name with every thrust as she clung to her for dear life. Again, Regina’s body struggled against the awkward seated sprawl they were in, but Emma was here, in her arms, and she was recovering her senses slowly. All she wanted now was to solidify the moment into the finality that Emma needed. 

“I love you.” She urged. “I’m here, Emma. Right here. Do you feel me inside of you? I love you so much. Stay with me please…” 

Regina was fighting tears of relief as Emma’s eyes settled on her before she kissed her again and again, parting only so Emma could suck her lungs full of air before groaning against Regina’s lips. There was a spark of life in her eyes again, frail but solidifying in the light of Regina’s words and actions. 

“Regina…” Emma gasped again, and Regina slid her free hand in Emma’s hair to push her into her neck as she sat cross-legged on the bed, cradling the woman in her lap. Both of Emma’s legs were sprawled to her right side as Regina continued to thrust into her, sheltering Emma as she tried to convey every ounce of love she had for the woman without using magic to make her feel it directly. This wasn’t a time for shortcuts; this was a time to _be here_ , for Emma. She kissed the top of Emma’s head as Emma’s arms came up to wrap around her neck, holding on in the onslaught of her emotions and she could feel hot kisses peppering her neck and shoulder, and even her jaw as Emma was pushed slowly but steadily towards orgasm.

This time, Emma moaned out her name before straining against her in orgasm, and when Emma finally calmed down enough to go limp, Regina rocked her gently as Emma cried her final tears and then just rested tiredly upon her shoulder, allowing Regina to hold her like an overgrown child. They were silent as recent events caught up with them, but they never broke contact. Regina drew lazy circles over Emma’s body with stained fingers, and Emma was scratching her neck and scalp gently while she kept her arms up around Regina’s neck. Regina’s back felt cramped and painful, but she refused to move out of this position until Emma did; Emma who was in her arms, and with her again. It was enough to make her heart soar.

“I’m sorry.” Emma eventually whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to… to make you do that. Again, I mean. Like before.”

Regina smiled. It seems Emma was at least aware of the reversal this type of sex—lovemaking?—was for their relationship. Yet Regina was not feeling the need to be apologized to for this; why should she be?

“Thank you for coming to me for help,” She answered, and kissed messed up and wet hair as she shivered in the chilling air of her bedroom. “Thank you for not pushing me away but letting me give you what you needed.” She added and when Emma’s teary eyes met hers, she mellowed hers completely, allowing Emma to see that she was telling the truth. Emma smiled a genuine smile and shook her head. 

“I could only ever come to you.” She confessed. Rearranging herself so she sat in Regina’s lap but with her legs wrapped around her waist, Emma took a deep breath.

“Look, I know we have been putting off talking about this, and I’m too tired to go nine rounds, but… I love you and I don’t want us to be so… unclear anymore. I don’t know how to say this without feeling like I’m in junior high, but I want to be with you—officially—like, your girlfriend or whatever—your partner. I know we have to talk about everything that’s been happening and about everything else that we have been avoiding but… I want to try to be yours, and I want you to try to be mine. I want—and don’t you dare laugh or whatever—but I want us to try and be a family one day. We’ve been doing this stupid dance for months now and I don’t want to do it anymore. I just want to be with you.”

Regina’s eyes filled up again, but the huge smile that accompanied it made sure to convey that this time, there was nothing but happiness there. She opened her mouth to answer but Emma cut in.

“Wait—I need to say one more thing before I chicken out—or maybe pass out. I’m not sure at this point.” She interrupted quickly, “I know I come with this huge amount of baggage and that, you know, you do as well, but I think that maybe… we were meant to be—and I hate how that sounds—but when I’m with you, I feel I can actually do what everyone tells me I can do, and I hope that maybe I make you feel the same so… if this is something you are willing to go for, to—you know—try… then just kiss me. I don’t think I can handle any more processing today so please just… kiss me?” Emma asked, her voice small and frail in the emotional vomit that was the sweetest and most heartfelt confession of love Regina had ever heard.

Without waiting another second, she rushed forward to capture bruised lips and cupped Emma’s face in both her hands to convey the resounding ‘yes!’ that this kiss was supposed to be. Regina kissed her like she could never stop, like the only thing in the world important enough to do was kiss Emma, and Emma held her close through the whole of it. Once they parted out of sheer lack of oxygen, they rested their foreheads together, and both women smiled, panting lightly.

“Alright then.” Emma croaked. “That’s settled.” 

Regina laughed.

“Yes, my sweet, beautiful, Savior; it is. And I love you too.” Regina spoke, her voice thick with emotions. Saying the words was different now, now they were framed in the context of Emma’s wishes—wishes perfectly mirrored by Regina. They were finally allowed to be what Regina had wanted them to be: a promise. 

She settled Emma under the covers to drive off the chill from her body, and kissed her forehead gently as she watched Emma drift off to sleep in the afternoon sunlight. She would wake her in a few hours for dinner, but for now, she would stay here and guard over her. Emma Swan, her partner—her heart jumped at that—the woman she had thought she hated. But she had never hated her. As she watched Emma’s mouth open slightly in her sleep, curled into Regina’s naked body, Regina saw the woman at her most unguarded, at her most undone, and not a single thought in her mind or feeling in her heart made her want to take advantage of that. She just wanted to lie here, run her fingers through blonde hair, and wait for the sun to go down. That was enough; that would always have been enough, Regina now realized—if only she had let it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of Women of Steel! I will beginning the last chapter--titled 'Horizons'--of this trilogy soon, and I hope you will be joining me for the conclusing of this story. It's been a wonderful ride so far and I want to thank everyone who left them for leaving kudos and comments. For those who I have not heard from yet, I would love to hear what you think of the story so far, so feel free to make use of the comment section. Until soon!


End file.
